Zelretch's Collection of Alternates
by Quatermass
Summary: Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to a collection of archived abandoned fics and initial chapters from stories yet to come, all from the Nasuverse, crossovers and pure fics alike.
1. Foreword

**FOREWORD**

Having had some small success with _The Cauldron_ , a collection of Harry Potter crossovers in either initial chapters, or else stories I've abandoned, I have decided to start a new collection. As with _The Cauldron_ , I was inspired by sakurademonalchemist, who has a variety of initial chapters in various collections. And like her, I have started my own collection of _Fate_ stories, mostly set during the events of _Fate/Zero_ , as I am most familiar with that part of the Nasuverse. There will be some _Fate/Stay Night_ stories mixed in, but mostly _Fate/Zero_.

My Fate stories have swiftly become amongst my most popular, including my Harry Potter stories _Perils of Magical Investigative Journalism, Ex Umbra in Solem_ , and _Gorgon and Thanatos_ , along with my crossover with _Thor_ (the first marked crossover to be posted on this website) _Light the Blue Touch Paper and Run Like Hell_. I also did a post- _Unlimited Blade Works_ oneshot called _Coconuts?_ (well, originally _Coconuts?!_ , but it wouldn't stay in the title), a crossover where Arturia watches _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_. And there's another first, the first marked crossover between _Final Fantasy IX_ and _Fate/Zero_ , _Kuja von Einzbern_ , based to a degree on the _Everything for My Family_ challenge by Gabriel Herrol.

These stories are basically a variety of both pure and crossover stories, but like sakurademonalchemist, I have published this in the pure _Fate/Stay Night_ section. It will also become a repository of stories I have had to abandon and archive.

One thing I must emphasise here is that I will not be putting any of these stories up for adoption. I am saying this right here, right now, so that I don't get any reviews or PMs asking for that. Part of this is that, archived abandoned fics aside, I have first refusal on turning these into full stories. Please do not ask to adopt these, as refusal will offend. I will get annoyed if people do not read this notice, or else ignore it. I will reiterate it for emphasis: **NONE OF THESE STORIES ARE UP FOR ADOPTION. DO NOT ASK ME. IF I BITE YOUR HEAD OFF FOR ASKING, IT'S YOUR OWN FAULT**.

Also, if you want to review a particular story, please point this out in your review. In other words, name the story. This goes especial if you want to see a non-abandoned story get published: I want to know which ones tickle your fancy.

Now that that's out of the way, time for my disclaimers. Firstly, because the ratings of these sample chapters are variable, this one is rated M to be safe. Sexual references, violence, and crude language abound, along with possible disturbing themes. Then again, given that this franchise gave us Crest Worms, this should be taken as read.

Secondly, there will be annotations, as is usual for my works. Do not gripe to me about them.

Thirdly, there may be spoilers for various franchises, and certainly for the Nasuverse. You have been warned.

Finally, the following is a fan-written work. _Fate/Zero, Fate/Stay Night_ and the various franchises crossed over are the properties of their respective owners. Please support the official release. Otherwise, Zelretch will give you a Kaleidostick...whether you want one or not...


	2. Repetita Iuvant Prologue

**For my first posted fanfic to _Zelretch's Collection of Alternates_ , well, those familiar with _The Cauldron_ will recognise this as being the alternate version of _Res Nullius_ that I said I was going to do. _Res Nullius_ was basically my attempt at shipping Harry with a time-travelling and properly-aged Illya. _Repetita Iuvant_ is basically the same story, but with Waver shipped with Illya instead of Harry.  
**

 **I'll be perfectly honest, I'm still wondering whether to do it either as a Harry Potter crossover, or else as a pure _Fate/Zero_ fic. If it does get posted as a full story, then we'll see. Anyway, I hope you enjoy...**

* * *

 _ **REPETITA IUVANT**_

 **PROLOGUE:**

 **TIME WARP**

 _She hadn't expected to wake after the blonde-haired Servant with the blood-coloured eyes literally tore her heart from her chest. She had expected oblivion. Instead, she woke within the Grail, on a dark beach._

 _She only remembered her time in there but dimly, but her mother was there, with the truth. Her mother, the last vestige of her mother's soul that wasn't corrupted by Angra Mainyu, the Avenger Servant her own damn family had summoned to cheat during the Third Holy Grail War. She held her, comforted her, told her what had really happened, how the von Einzberns deliberately kept her father away from her, and then shaped his daughter into a killing machine to murder a boy she was told her father had abandoned her for._

 _She had cried, and cried, while her mother soothed her. Then, her mother outlined an audacious, insane plan. The core of the Grail still worked. With the right boost, it could fulfil its purpose without unleashing Angra Mainyu on all creation. And with that boost, she would have a second chance, even a new body that wasn't stuck so young._

 _When the arrogant Gilgamesh, Archer of the previous Grail War, was sucked into the Grail, they knew the time had come. The sheer raw power of that Servant would work well. Plus, the irony was appealing, to use her own murderer to give herself a second chance._

 _Her mother was going to send her back, to where she was needed. She was going to find the best protector for her, as well as someone who could be her friend, give her the happiness she had been yearning for all her life. She hoped so. She fervently hoped so._

 _As the landscape around them turned from darkest night to brightest day, the daughter looked at her mother. "Goodbye, Mummy. I'll see you as soon as I can."_

 _As everything dissolved into white light, her mother said, "Good luck, my daughter…"_

 _But even as she left, she felt something reach into her. Angra Mainyu, unable to stop her, was trying to tear away as much as it could. She felt her memory being shredded to ribbons, not actually gone, but tattered and left in useless ribbons, trailing in her wake as she hurtled back. To the beginning. And beyond…_

* * *

Regret was running through the head of Waver Velvet, third generation Magus, eighteen years old, and in fact the only one of his family to take a serious interest in magecraft, as he walked home from the funeral of his parents, having gotten off at his station. He was badly regretting the parting words he'd had with his mother, the very last words they had exchanged. He had said, " _You encouraged learning all my life, and yet, you're stopping me from doing so now? You hypocrite! I hate you!_ "

" _The only way you're going to Clock Tower is over my dead body!_ "

And Waver, in a fit of stupid, childish pique, had just sneered at her, and said, " _Then I wish you_ _ **were**_ _dead! You're only in my way!_ " And stormed from the house, leaving his mother speechless. He had gone into London, looking at the museums in an effort to calm himself down. He would come back, only to learn that, when his mother and father drove to an outing, they were hit by another car, dying almost instantly. He only found out when he came home to find a bobby outside, waiting.

What a stupid, stupid thing to say, Waver thought as tears trickled from his eyes. He prided himself on his intelligence, but heated emotions and arguments have a tendency to lower IQs. True, he now had the opportunity to go to Clock Tower, or at least once he sold all the non-essentials in his old home…but was it worth it?

A truism of magecraft was that Magi walk hand in hand with Death. It was this incident that made that truism strike home. He scowled up at the sky, perversely blue with only a few clouds. Why wasn't it grey and dreary? Why wasn't it raining? Didn't it always rain at funerals, or afterwards, as an indicator of mood? His tears were the only thing wetting him. He needed rain, to expurgate his sins.

Waver eventually reached his home, and entered it despondently. Now, items that had seemed filled with joy filled him with sorrow and self-loathing. He remembered a quote from the Bible, a book he wasn't that much interested in, but he remembered one quote that seemed fitting: _The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth_.

The empty house seemed to make the noises of his moving about louder, eerily, as if making an accusation against him. Waver told himself to pull himself together. Houses weren't living, and furthermore…

 _WHUMP!_

He heard a thud from his parents' bedroom, and leapt into the air, startled. After a moment's hesitation, he reached for a cricket bat his father kept near the door (in case of intruders), and inched forward, eventually making it into the bedroom…where he stopped and stared.

Sprawled on the bed, as if she had fallen out of the very air itself, was a naked girl about his age, and a little taller than he was. Her skin was snow-white in a way that was no metaphor, and almost as pale hair. His first thought was that she was some kind of albino. His second thought was that he didn't know how the hell she ended up here, but thieves tended not to be naked when infiltrating a house, and certainly didn't fall asleep on a bed. She could be a rapist, but the thought seemed laughable even as Waver thought of it, and with a body like hers, with long gorgeous legs, beautiful face, and a generous bust, really, she could have her pick of any man she wanted. And while she could have intruded to kill him, well, something told her that psychotic murderers wouldn't fall asleep on a bed.

After a moment's consideration, Waver opted to let the naked albino girl sleep and explain herself when she woke up. He just shut the door, and opted to go into his room and study the few magecraft books he had…

* * *

Consciousness returned slowly, gradually. She thought she heard English, rather muzzily. But she slept on, dreaming. Of a boy with red hair and golden eyes. Of a dark-haired girl with a red dress. Of a blonde girl with green eyes and a regal demeanour, wearing a blue, armoured dress. Of a tall, tanned man with white hair, wearing a red coat over black armour. Of her two maids, almost identical in appearance, but not in demeanour. Of a massive, musclebound giant with skin that made him look like he was a statue, hewn from dark stone. Of her mother, those features so much like her own, and yet an adult body. And of her father, dark-haired and weary, with a sadness in his eyes. These images faded away, like smoke on the wind.

Eventually, she woke, slowly and reluctantly. Her first realisation was that she was in bed, and utterly naked. A quick spell showed that nothing untoward had been done to her. But her body seemed strange now. So did her mind. So full of holes. She knew about magecraft, but her life and her family were blank. She was surprised she wasn't panicking yet.

As she managed to get out of the bed, she found herself facing a body-length mirror, and she stared in shock. Okay, she should have realised the moment her limbs seemed longer than they had been, or that her chest was much heavier than she was used to…and yet, she was still surprised. She stared at the body of a stranger…

No, not a stranger. It was her. She had managed to reach her true age, somehow. She was eighteen, but stuck in the body of a pre-teen. She didn't remember much, but she could remember that much. Now, she actually looked eighteen, and a very good eighteen at that. She had proper breasts now, for crying out loud! And those legs! Long, graceful legs! A small chuckle wormed its way from her lips. A last gift from her mother, she thought. An actual body that wasn't a prison.

She twirled in front of the mirror, giggling quietly to herself. She could still feel her Magic Circuits, too. She was still as powerful as she was before, if not more so. The rush of power was intoxicating.

She brought herself into calm with difficulty. She was still naked in an unknown situation, and she couldn't remember a damn thing about herself. Pursing her lips, she studied the room, reaching out with senses honed by her abilities as both a Magus and…something else. She couldn't remember what that was for the life of her.

There were traces of magecraft throughout the house, though not much, not enough to be more than the work of dabblers, or an amateur student. No spells holding her here, no Bounded Fields…the only problem she had was that she was naked in a stranger's bedroom.

She wandered over to a wardrobe, and looked inside. The clothes were a little too big for her, but she'd have to make do. She opted to get dressed once she had finished her morning ablutions, which she did, savouring a nice, long bath.

Getting dressed, she opened the door, and found a faint smell of food wafting into her nose. Smelled like some sort of curry. She snuck downstairs, and carefully padded her way through the house, trying to find its origin. It was hunger and curiosity both that led her to the dining area.

As she opened the door, she soon saw her host, a dark-haired boy, rather weedy and short, sitting there, what seemed like a takeaway Indian meal being eaten morosely with one hand, while a magecraft book was held in the other. She cleared her throat to get his attention.

* * *

Waver nearly shrieked when he heard someone clear their throat, but he managed to stifle the urge, looking up to see his guest standing there, wearing some of his mother's old clothes. "Oh, you're awake?"

The girl nodded. "Sorry for startling you," she said, her musical voice having a mild German accent. Waver noted that her eyes were rather unusual, like the rest of her: her irises were blood red. He could have sworn there was a slight epicanthic fold to her eyes too, like she had some Oriental ancestry.

"I ordered enough for both of us," Waver said. "Have you ever had curry before?"

"Long ago," the girl said, sitting down. "It's somewhat plebeian, but I won't say no to it."

Waver blinked at her choice of words as she took a plate and ladled out curry and rice. Plebeian? Sounded like the way his mother claimed Magi from long-established family spoke. He didn't know whether to be offended or not.

He opted not to ask any questions before she finished. But once she did, he asked, "Who are you? And how did you end up in my house?"

She blinked. "I…don't know." She pouted in a manner that made her almost endearingly childish. "Damnation, this is hard. I don't know how I got here, I'm missing a lot of my memories, and I'm tripping over myself. And you're a Magus, right? Or at least someone studying magecraft?" she asked. Waver winced when he realised he hadn't concealed the book, given that she could have been a non-magical. "Well, I happen to be a Magus myself."

Waver blinked. "You are? Can you teach me?"

"Well, I can help you with some things. Other things, well…" She pursed her lips. "Well, why not? Maybe it'll help jog my memory. Actually, what's your name?"

"I'm Waver Velvet. And you are?"

The girl blinked, and frowned. Eventually, she said, "Yes, I do." A smile lit up her face. "I remember my name!" Her face fell. "Well, my first name. And I can't remember my parents, though. But I am Illyasviel. Call me Illya."

 _Illyasviel…what a pretty name_ , Waver thought to himself. _Like the rest of her_.

He didn't subscribe to any foolish notions of fate or destiny, save for what they made themselves. But there was something about this meeting that was portentous, in a good way. It was like Illyasviel was an angel from Heaven, sent to help him after his parents' demise. Maybe she was a sign that he could do something with his life. Maybe she could help lay the ghosts of his parents to rest.

Waver didn't know it, but she would draw him into an even greater purpose than he ever thought he could aspire to in life, something that would have made his parents proud. After all, what parent wouldn't be proud of their child saving the world?

 **PROLOGUE ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, here you have it. Illya's ended up with Waver. And in case you're wondering, Irisviel (as part of the Grail that isn't corrupted by Angra Mainyu) has sent her back with a body that is her actual age, and back shortly before the events of** ** _Fate/Zero_** **.**

 **I thought of Illya as looking like a version of her mother in her late teens. I mentioned epicanthic folds due to her father being the Japanese Kiritsugu Emiya, and Iri does mention in the opening episode of** ** _Fate/Zero_** **that Illya has his eyes.**

 **Now, originally, I intended to have Illya come back in time with her memories intact, but I thought that'd create too many problems, having her know too much about the future. So I decided to have Angra Mainyu be a dick and take a good chunk of her memories. She knows her name, her magecraft, and about the Grail War, but she's forgotten her family, along with the events of** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **. She'll recover them in time for the events of** ** _Fate/Zero_** **.**

 **There's another reason for that. Because she retained her memories, the chapters I initially wrote were filled with exposition, and it would have taken forever to get to the romance. I'm going to skip forward to shortly before the events of** ** _Fate/Zero_** **, with all the lead-up to the romance taking place offscreen, and Waver and Illya being lovers.**

 **Now, the above annotations is an edited form of what I wrote for** ** _Res Nullius_** **. Here, I'd like to talk about Waver, and why I wrote him the way I did.**

 **Waver's past isn't expanded upon much, but when I read the Type Moon wiki for ideas, beyond what I've seen in the anime and read in the first volume of the manga, I read that his parents died before he went into Clock Tower, and that his mother didn't want him to go into it. Given how bratty he is initially in** ** _Fate/Zero_** **, I thought I'd give a touch of tragedy to his parents' demise, with his last words to his mother being something he regretted. Yeah, it's probably not remotely canon, but it's my fanfic, my rules, and I hope it gives Waver some depth he needs.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	3. Repetita Iuvant Chapter 1

_**REPETITA IUVANT**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **A LIFE REGAINED**

 _Over a year later…_

It had been an interesting year, though some of that interesting was in the ' _may you live in interesting times_ ' curse sense. Then again, when your entry into Clock Tower was sponsored by no less a personage than Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, the infamous Dead Apostle Ancestor (vampire to most normal people), master of the Second True Magic Kaleidoscope, Wizard Marshall and unrepentant prankster…well, that was hardly surprising. In fact, Waver was almost certain that Zelretch was in on some joke or other at his expense and Illya's. Illya was certain that he knew who she really was, though all attempts to winkle the information out of the damned vampire was for nothing.

Zelretch had arrived at their home shortly after Waver had sent an expression of interest to Clock Tower. Thanks to him, they identified Illya as being part-Homunculus, specifically part-von Einzbern Homunculus. He suggested that Illya dye her hair and wear coloured contacts, in order to avoid unnecessary attention: the von Einzberns were even more jealous than most Magi families about their secrets (and that was saying something). She was now Chloe Shelley(1), though soon, she might be Chloe Velvet. But that was a matter for another time.

In any case, Zelretch had sponsored Waver's entry into Clock Tower, and had asked Illya to become his assistant, which basically meant a sounding board for his pranks, a task that Illya surprisingly took to with gusto. Then again, she had something of a childish, impish streak in her. It was partly for the sake of pissing off some of the academics that the pair of them had encouraged Waver's thesis.

A thesis that Kayneth Archibald, Lord El-Melloi and the ninth head of the Archibald family, had humiliated him over. He had derided the thesis, claiming he had only read the abstract(2), and had burned it. The entire class had laughed at him, and Waver had been forced to flee the lecture hall, jeers following him.

All because Waver had dared to suggest that, with hard work and training, even a relative newblood Magus could equal, even surpass one with a longer Magus lineage.

Did Illya and Zelretch set him up? No, he realised. Illya wouldn't have done so, and Zelretch held a soft spot for Waver. But Waver wanted some revenge, which was why, when he encountered a delivery man who wanted to speak to Kayneth, he promptly lied and stole the package.

He was in his quarters examining it, having finally guessed why he needed a scrap of ancient red cloth from Macedonia. He was reading a relevant text when he heard the door open. "I heard Lord Mellow-Yellow didn't like your thesis," Illya said, walking through.

Waver snorted. "Stuck-up bastard didn't even read beyond the abstract, and burned the manuscript in front of the class."

Illya noticed the package on a table, and scowled when she saw the address. "So you stole his parcel? Not a good idea. Once he realises it's gone, he'll be gunning for you."

"I'll just say some idiot stole it from me when I was taking it back to his office," Waver said. "Anyway, you and Zelretch are always trying to rope me into your pranks. Consider this another one."

Illya tutted in annoyance. "Yes, but the best kind of pranks work when they can't wreak revenge on you. Zelretch gets away with it because he's the Wizard Marshall, not to mention an Apostle. I get away with it because I know how to play innocent. You, my dear Waver, have no poker face."

"That's because I don't play such a vulgar game," Waver said. "And I refuse to play strip poker either. I don't know what's worse, my embarrassment, your lack of it, or seeing Zelretch naked!"

"You got to see Arc naked too," Illya said.

"She's also a True Ancestor who looks like she's in her teens despite being centuries if not millennia old, and who would end my life if I stared at her too long, even if she's nice," Waver protested. "Or you would, for that matter."

Illya giggled. "I wouldn't _end_ your life, Waver. You'd wish that was the case, though."

Waver sighed. Illya meant that in jest, well, mostly. Of course, since they became an item, Illya had been…well, jealously protective of her boyfriend and (at least for the past little while) lovers. Waver was surprised that someone as beautiful as Illya would deign to be his lover, given how gawky and awkward Waver was. But Illya had no past, or at least no memory of it, save for magecraft, some of which she taught him. And she was grateful for him giving her a life of sorts, as without her memories, she needed some sort of anchor.

Illya certainly helped hone Waver, polish some of his intellect. But there were times when his pride, when injured, caused him to make impulsive decisions. Like this.

"Anyway, this thing might be more valuable than I originally thought. I'm pretty sure that's a scrap of cloth once belonging to a mantle worn by Alexander the Great," Waver said.

"Why would Lord Gallifrey want that?" Illya asked.

"I think he's going to participate in the Holy Grail War…only I'm going to do it myself. I know what you're going to say, Illya, but I need to do this, to prove myself, and…" Waver blinked as he looked at Illya, who was quaking and quivering. "Illya? What's wrong?"

"I…Grail…remem…ber…" Her eyes rolled up in the back of her head, and she toppled to the floor, convulsing and writhing, as if in the grip of a massive seizure. She began screaming in pain, her voice rapidly hoarsening. Waver was by her side in a flash, holding her, hoping to stop her from hurting herself.

As if by his touch, she calmed, subsiding, her eyes, instead of rolled up, were now staring straight ahead, fixed into the distance, twitching rapidly. What was she seeing?

* * *

Illya _remembered_.

She nearly drowned in a deluge of memory, memory that had been nearly torn away by Angra Mainyu. It wasn't until she felt Waver's touch, the feel of his magic, that she was able to stay afloat in the flood. Part of her managed to calm down. The rest of her still felt all those memories flooding back.

She could have been left a vegetable, but Illyasviel von Einzbern was stronger than that. She had controlled Heracles as a Berserker! She was the daughter of the Magus Killer!

It was hard keeping her head above water, to use a metaphor, but she managed. It was an effort, but she managed. After what seemed like an eternity, the flow of memories slowed, and then ceased. It was still a chaotic swirl, but she now knew she had everything. What's more, she knew that something had to be done about it.

She came back to herself to find her boyfriend staring at her in fear and concern. His words finally came to her, as if through a mist. "…ya?! Illya! Are you all right?"

"Waver…" Illya said quietly, reaching out a hand to touch his face.

"What's the matter, Illya?" he asked. Oh, sweet Waver. He could tell that something was bothering her.

The next three words to come from her lips were amongst the hardest she had ever spoken, surpassed only when she first told Waver " _I love you_ ". But speak them, she had to. So much was at stake.

And so, she spoke them.

"I remember _everything_."

* * *

Waver stared at Illya in horror and shock. What she had to say was fantastic, and unbelievable in virtually every sense of the word. But she had allowed him to look into her memories, and he had done so, something she had taught him how to do, beyond basic hypnosis.

Time travel…rumoured to be the Fifth True Magic. But the Holy Grail had achieved it. Illyasviel von Einzbern had fought in a Fifth Holy Grail War, taking place only a decade after this coming one.

Illyasviel's story was a tangled one. Illya was born to Irisviel von Einzbern, a Homunculus created by the von Einzbern family, and Kiritsugu Emiya, a Magus of some infamy as a mercenary and assassin, known as the Magus Killer. Thanks to experiments on her while she was in the womb, as well as when she was a child, her physical development was slow, and ground to a halt before she reached puberty. Until now, she had been stuck in a child's body, despite having lived to the age of 18.

Anyway, her father had been retained as the chosen Master representing the von Einzbern family in the Fourth Holy Grail War. Seven Magi would summon the spirits of heroes from myth and history (dubbed 'Servants') to do battle, each in a specific class, in the Japanese city of Fuyuki. Her father had been the Master of Saber in that Grail War, but had never come back from Fuyuki, having destroyed the Grail and betrayed the von Einzberns.

Illya's 'grandfather', Jubstacheit, along with a dream vision of Illya's mother, had claimed Kiritsugu had abandoned Illya, in favour of adopting a Japanese boy called Shirou. In truth, Illya would later learn from the soul of her true mother within the Grail that Kiritsugu had tried to retrieve Illya, only to be rebuffed by the von Einzberns. And the von Einzberns not only expected Illya to be a Master in the next Grail War, but also become the next Lesser Grail, a vessel designed to become the next Greater Grail, the Holy Grail proper, when charged with the lifeforce of at least six Servants.

Oh, and they wanted her to murder her stepbrother, as her father had by then died from a curse.

Illya became the Master of Berserker, who was actually Heracles. Heading to Fuyuki, she had a number of battles, including with the very Saber Servant her father summoned, and who was now protecting her stepbrother. But during the Grail War, she was attacked by a mysterious Servant with golden hair and red eyes, whom she later identified as Gilgamesh. He tore her heart from her after defeating Berserker, and used it for his own version of the Grail.

It was there that Illya met her mother for the first time in years. Irisviel was still part of the Grail, and part of her had remained untouched by the entity corrupting it, Angra Mainyu, supposedly the devil-figure from ancient Zoroastrianism. And through Irisviel, they had enough power to send Illya's soul, along with a new body (closer to her actual age) back in time.

Waver didn't know what was scarier, assuming this was real, and not some delusion of his girlfriend. That the Grail was contaminated by Angra Mainyu, that his girlfriend was willing to murder an innocent…or that _he was sleeping with the daughter of the fucking Magus Killer!_ A man who would probably neuter him should they meet and he learned of it.

He was so doomed.

Waver knew now, given that he had seen her memories, that his girlfriend was a dangerous young woman, more so than he had before. But he had also seen her heartbreak and her hurt. And she was shaped into a sacrificial weapon by an ancient old man.

* * *

In another reality, both Harry Potter and Dumbledore sneezed simultaneously.

* * *

Illya, after a moment, said, "I'm sorry. I mean, if you hate me, I…"

"I can't hate you, Illya. I'm a little angry at you for wanting to murder Shirou based on Acht's say-so, but…you know what you did was wrong now. Anyway, you showed me your memories when you regained them." Then, he remarked, "I'm a bit more worried about what your father will do to me when he learns I've slept with you."

"Sex is perfectly natural," Illya said with a pout.

"Yes, but sleeping with the Magus Killer's daughter is another matter!" Waver protested. "Especially as your actual self is…what, eight?"

"My mother's only nine at this point."

"She's a Homunculus! They're born with adult memories and personalities! They're like biological androids!" Waver pointed out, rather vociferously. "Whereas you actually had a childhood!"

"Not much of one after Daddy fought in the Grail War," Illya mused. She gave him a sad smile. "Waver…will you still be my friend?"

After a moment, Waver asked, "What sort of question is that? Of course I will be. I love you, Illya. I just need to get some things straight in my head first." Rubbing at his head, Waver then said, "What are we going to do about the Grail War, then?"

"We're going to destroy the Grail, or at least stall the Grail War until it can be dismantled," Illya said. "We'll need Zelretch on side at least: he was one of those who helped set it up." She looked over at the scrap of cloth. "Hmm…and two Servants are better than one," she mused. "Waver, I need to ask you…I need your help. You know what lurks within the Grail. Angra Mainyu, the Avenger Servant my family tried to summon. I need to find a way to destroy the Grail, or else dismantle it so that it isn't in danger of contaminating Akasha, not to mention destroying humanity. I don't think contacting my family is a good idea: they'd either kill me for being an impostor, or vivisect me. I might be able to persuade my parents once we're in Fuyuki. Zelretch may believe me, but…"

"You want me to go with you, fight in this Grail War, against a group of ruthless Magi, including your own father?"

"Precisely," she said with a smile. "So, let's start making plans…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Illya remembers who she is. Originally, in** ** _Res Nullius_** **, I had her steal Avalon from Cornwall, but I decided that may not be plausible, as this might be around the time that the von Einzberns have obtained it. Which means that Illya is going to summon a Caster. Yes, I know, she'd probably want to summon Heracles as Berserker again, but I think she's also aware of who summoned who in the previous Holy Grail War, and she'd want to take Caster out of play to stop Ryuunosuke from making an appearance.**

 **1\. Chloe is a reference to Kuro 'Chloe' von Einzbern from** ** _Fate/kaleid liner Prisma Illya_** **. Shelley is a reference to Mary Shelley, the writer of** ** _Frankenstein_** **, who is implied to be a homunculus of some sort in the original novel.**

 **2\. An abstract is a summary at the beginning of an academic paper.**


	4. Repetita Iuvant Chapter 2

_**REPITITA IUVANT**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THE SUMMONING**

A few days later, they were in Fuyuki, and were taking a taxi to the Einzbern Castle on the outskirts of the city, late afternoon twilight painting the road. Illya contemplated what she and Waver were going to do. It was dangerous, to say the least, but then again, participating in the Grail War was already dangerous. Hell, magecraft in general was dangerous, especially if one caught the eye of the Magus Association, or worse, Gaia or Alaya. Illya was used to the danger by now, and Waver was getting there. Oh, he was still a bit of a…well, not coward. He had come with her even knowing what they had to do. But he was somewhat out of his depth, and it was Illya who took the lead. Then again, it's what she did in their relationship.

She knew it would be at least a few days before her parents came to Fuyuki, along with Saber, aka King Arthur. Or rather, Arturia Pendragon. Waver had been astonished to learn that one of the key figures in British chivalric tradition was actually a woman, not to mention Mordred. Illya tried to track down Avalon, but it had already been taken by the agents of the von Einzberns.

Illya had decided, albeit after a lot of thinking, that she wouldn't summon a Berserker this time around. As much as she wanted Heracles again, she wasn't sure whether that would mess with the Servants summoned. Thanks to the files her father left behind (and which Acht made her study), and the memories her mother gave her from their time within the Grail, Illya knew the Servants in this Grail War, and was even now still formulating strategies.

 _Tokiomi Tohsaka was the one who summoned Gilgamesh, the Archer who killed me in the future_ , Illya thought. _The Matou representative was Kariya, but I don't know much about him, save that he was the white sheep of the family. Something drove him to go back, and his Berserker was Lancelot of the Lake. Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald, after Waver stole his catalyst, summoned Diarmuid of the Love Spot as Lancer. Then, you have Kirei Kotomine, who was the Master of Assassin_.

 _And then, you have Waver, soon to be Master of Rider, and my father, Master of Saber_.

The biggest wildcard in the entire Grail War, however, had been Ryuunosuke Uryu, a serial killer who was one of the last members of a near-extinct Magus line, and who hadn't been aware of magecraft until he summoned Caster, probably under the impression he was summoning a demon. Caster, who had been a twisted form of Gilles de Rais, aka Bluebeard, was still pretty close, and the pair of them didn't give a shit about keeping magic secret, only murdering in creative ways and causing chaos. And, if what her mother said was correct, obsessed with Arturia, believing her to be Joan of Arc. Then again, many of the Servants had been. Iskandar wanted to make her part of his army, Gilgamesh wanted her as a wife, willing or not, Diarmuid wanted to spar with her, and Lancelot wanted to fight to the death to expurgate his sins.

Hopefully, by Illya taking Caster before Ryuunosuke could do so, he would be taken out of the running. And Zelretch had given her a relic in a box to act as a catalyst. Illya was admittedly reluctant to summon this Caster…but Zelretch had persuaded her to accept this Caster's help. He even said he would help her make sure her younger self got away from the von Einzberns, by offering her an apprenticeship. Apprenticeships with Zelretch were both coveted and feared, and it was unusual for Zelretch to accept an apprentice as young as Illya, but the prestige was something her family couldn't ignore. The last Illya heard from Zelretch, her father had accepted, and her younger self was ready to head to London.

Still, that was only part of the problem solved. Now they had to deal with more dangerous matters…

* * *

Getting through the Bounded Fields, once they were dropped off, was easy. She had done so before, and she was of von Einzbern blood, after all. Walking into the front hall, however, was harder. Not because of anything like magical defences, rather, it was the sudden sense of nostalgia, of memories good and bad.

Illya remembered Sella and Leysritt. How they protected her, the two Homunculi, fighting to the death to protect their mistress. And they did die, dying at the hands of Gilgamesh. So too did Heracles, and then, herself.

For a brief moment, her mind flashed back to the moment when Gilgamesh tore her heart out. She began panting in a small panic as the vivid memory played itself over and over again, until she felt the comforting hand of Waver on her shoulder.

The von Einzberns sent Homunculi over at regular intervals to maintain the castle and keep it from intruders. Thankfully, they couldn't think very hard. They weren't as sophisticated as Sella and Leysritt. They were little more than dolls, than robots, albeit made of flesh and blood and alchemy than machinery and electronics. They simply accepted Illya as being here, along with Waver, once Illya used the right passcodes, passcodes her mother told her before sending her into the past.

"That seemed too easy," Waver said uneasily as they went to their bedrooms.

Illya nodded. "It only seems that way because you have me with you. Though I have to admit, it is rather too easy. But this is only the first stage of things, Waver. We've got to summon our Servants as soon as possible."

Waver nodded. Illya had viewed Waver, even before she regained her memories, as something of a project. The boy had a lot of potential, despite his relatively short magecraft lineage. The fact that, beneath his occasionally bratty persona, he was a genuinely nice guy and a keen mind helped matters. That, and he showed her kindness when he didn't need to. Her stepbrother had something of the same thing, even if Illya was too blinkered by hatred to see it at the time.

He was awkward and a little clumsy, but Waver was nice, intelligent, and had more bravery than he realised. What's more, when she told him, perhaps unwisely, that he became the second Lord El-Melloi, his reaction was, and continued to be, disbelief and uncertainty. He desired prestige, true, but to become Lord El-Melloi? He wasn't sure he was ready for such a thing, and that helped endear him to Illya even more.

As they went into the bedroom, Homunculi unpacking their bags, Illya said, "We'll summon our Servants later tonight, as per the plan."

"Rider will be a powerful one, right?" Waver asked.

"My mother showed me her memories of Iskandar's Reality Marble, the _Ionian Hetairoi_. It's powerful, believe me." Illya pursed her lips as she took a certain box from her bag. It was troublesome getting both relics through customs, but they managed it with a touch of hypnotism. Having actually watched some movies this time around, Illya impishly called her hypnotism the Jedi Mind Trick. "I'm more worried about my Servant, about Caster."

Waver shrugged. "This one can't be anywhere near as bad as the one you said was around for this Grail War. This Caster may be useful too. I'm more worried about your father."

"We'll be fine," Illya said. "Stop worrying about that. I'll handle my father. He won't be coming over to Japan for another couple of days yet. Our priority is to prepare to summon the Servants tonight." _And hope there's not much trouble_ , Illya added to herself in the privacy of her head.

* * *

As she drew out the circle, Illya murmured, "For the origin, silver and steel. For the cornerstone, gem and the Archduke of Contracts. For the ancestor, my great master Schweinorg. The alighted wind becomes a wall. Close the gates in the four directions. From the crown, come forth. Trace the three-forked road leading to the kingdom. Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Repeat fivefold, and when each is filled, destroy it(1)." After she completed the ritual circle, she nodded, satisfied. "Okay, normally, it's ladies first, but I'd rather have Iskandar ready and waiting in case Caster gets ideas."

Waver nodded, and walked over to the altar, placing the scrap from Alexander the Great's mantle on it. The chapel was like the one back home. "I'm nervous. Were you nervous summoning Heracles?" Waver asked.

"I was downright frightened," Illya said. "I had to summon him while being attacked by wolves. At least now I have the luxury to be nervous."

Waver made a face that suggested he'd love nothing more than to find a way to make her family pay for what they put her through. Illya and Waver had a mutually protective streak, despite being relatively weak physically. Waver then sighed, psyching himself up for the summoning, before he thrust his hand out and began feeding mana into the ritual circle. He intoned, " _Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world, that I shall defeat all evil in the world! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!_ "

The circle dissolved into a flare of actinic light, and a blast of air assaulted them. Blinking away the afterimage, Illya smiled when she saw the man standing within it. Tall, proud, and muscular, with tanned skin and red hair and a beard. He was dressed in battle dress, over which he wore a blood-red cloak.

"Servant Rider has answered your summons," the man said in a rasping rumble of a voice. "I ask of you, are you my Master?"

Waver grinned, before showing the Command Seals now etched into his hand. "It's good to meet you, Rider…or would you prefer Alexander the Great, or Iskandar?"

The burly Servant looked at Waver, before grinning. "Iskandar. It seems that the pact is sealed. What is your name, boy?"

"Waver Velvet. And that is my ally and girlfriend, Illyasviel von Einzbern, though in public, she will have to be known as Chloe. It's complicated, for reasons we'll explain later."

Illya curtsied to Iskandar. "A pleasure to meet you, Iskandar."

"Hah! A polite young woman, but I can see the fire in her eyes, and not just from their colour. Now, show me to your library immediately. I must prepare for the battles to come."

"We have a library in this castle," Waver said. "But can it wait until after Illya summons her Servant? We're just a little worried about her Caster Servant, and we would feel better with another Servant ready."

"Hmm…I applaud your prudence, boy. Very well, I believe I can delay my need for books. But do you have an atlas and any works by Homer in the library?"

Illya nodded. "In German, but I know Servants can understand any language spoken to them."

"Very well."

Waver took his relic off the altar, while Illya replaced it with her own. A fleck of wool that seemed to be golden. Iskandar recognised it, judging by the interested flicker. "Girl, is that the Golden Fleece?"

Illya tamped down her annoyance at being addressed as 'girl'. Iskandar had apparently been like that, according to her mother. "Yes, or what little there is left of it."

Iskandar frowned. "I know of only one Caster Servant offhand connected to that myth. Is it wise to summon that one?"

"Probably not, but I was given this for a reason," Illya said. "I'm modifying the chant to make certain that I get a Caster, too. Otherwise, someone might get a worse one."

Iskandar's frown deepened. "You sound even more certain of that than the Pythia(2)."

"Yes, but I'll explain that later," Illya said. She then took up her position, flung out her hand, and began pumping mana into the circle herself. " _Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world, that I shall defeat all evil in the world!_ " Then, she began using the modified chant.

Apparently, one could modify the chant slightly to guarantee a certain class, assuming it hadn't already been summoned. The Berserker chant addition, for example, went along the lines of _Then let thine eyes be clouded with the fog of turmoil and chaos, thou who are trapped in a cage of madness, and I, the summoner, who holds thy chains!_

But they wanted a Caster, so Illya said, instead, " _Let thy ways be the hidden and mystic ways of sorcery supreme, of magic and mystery! Magus unto Magus, I call thee, peer, to answer me! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!_ "

Once again, the circle dissolved into a flare of light, and Illya felt a familiar stab of pain in her hand. The light faded, to reveal a figure Illya remembered from within the Grail. A figure she dreaded, but perhaps might be their best hope.

It was the figure of a woman, dressed in rather elegant robes, a hood concealing her head and most of her face, save for her nose and lips, and part of her blue hair. The figure could have been sinister, and yet…despite Illya knowing what she did about this Caster, she nonetheless actually felt sorry for her.

"Servant Caster has answered your summons," the robed woman said. "I ask of you, are you my Master?"

Illya held up her Command Seals, newly etched into her hand. "Indeed I am."

"Then the pact is sealed," Caster said with a smile. "Are we in alliance with these two?"

"Yes. That's my boyfriend Waver Velvet, and this is Rider, aka Iskandar, aka Alexander the Great. And you are Medea, Princess of Colchis."

"…How did you know my name?" Medea asked, a little bemused, understandably.

"It's a long story. Very long story," Illya said. "And complicated. Maybe a drink would be in order?"

"I would prefer a strong wine of a good vintage, if you don't mind," Medea said. "I just hope the impending headache is from the explanation, and not from a retroactive hangover."

 _You and me both_ , Illya thought to herself. _You and me both_ …

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Waver and Illya have summoned Iskandar and Medea respectively. Yeah, I know, I've brought in Medea as a Caster again (having done so in** ** _Perils of Magical Investigative Journalism_** **, and** ** _Light the Blue Touch Paper and Run Like Hell_** **), but I love to see her as a protagonist rather than an antagonist. It was either going to be her as a Caster or EMIYA. Yes, he can be summoned as a Caster, apparently.**

 **Incidentally, I made up the Caster-specific summoning chant inspired by the Berserker-specific summoning chant, which Kariya uses in** ** _Fate/Zero_** **. It got me thinking, there may be specific chants for each class for those who don't already have Command Seals, and who aren't trying pot luck, so I made this one up for Casters. I hope I got it right.**

 **1\. I used this version of the preparation incantation in** ** _Gorgon and Thanatos_** **. I used a mixture of the ritual from the manga, as well as Third Fang's** ** _From Fake Dreams_** **. The final incantation is from the English dub of** ** _Fate/Zero_** **.**

 **2\. Iskandar is referring to the high priestess of the Temple of Apollo at Delphi, known for uttering prophecies.**


	5. Justice for the Underground Chapter 1

**I was on an _Undertale_ kick for much of the last few months of last year, and I began writing an _Undertale_ story where, instead of Frisk falling into the Underground, it was Illya and Kiritsugu, some time between the events of _Fate/Zero_ and _Fate/Stay Night_. I also wanted to integrate the two universes in a fashion. I eventually became bored, though a lot of this eventually became my _Undertale/Dragonball Z_ crossover _Super Saiyan Saviour_. One day, I may revisit this story...**

* * *

 _ **JUSTICE FOR THE UNDERGROUND**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **WAY TO FALL**

In a remote corner of Germany, there was a large mountain known as Mount Ebott. Legend had it that, centuries ago, monsters lived on the land in harmony with man, monsters with the intelligence of men, capable of great feats of magic. Then, war broke out between man and monster. A war that ended with the monsters sealed forever, deep underground.

But history is known to lie, and is frequently written by the winners. And legend and myth, at best, are distortions of history in any case. While the legend was true in broad strokes, it failed to capture the truth behind the legend. Yes, monsters were real, and war broke out between them and humanity. They were a different kind of monster to the Phantasmal Species, though. The closest that one could say about them were that they wielded a different kind of magic to the Magi.

One truth that had been obscured even from legend, known only to a select few, was that the monsters' downfall had come from treachery, from those who they had thought were allies. A family of Magi who had taken secrets from them to become great…and had betrayed them when it suited them, believing they had learned all they needed to from them. Another family had done the same, but they hadn't been allies of the monsters. Originally, this first family was. It was this family of Magi who created the Barrier that kept the monsters from escaping. And in locking their former allies away, this Magi family created the cruellest of locks.

Only a human could break the lock. Only a human could pass through the Barrier into the Underground, and only a combined human and monster soul could leave. And if there was one thing that this family was good at, it was magecraft of the soul.

This family was the von Einzbern family. One of the most powerful, ambitious, and cruel Magus families. A family that would think nothing of sacrificing a living, thinking being if it meant they could get what they wanted. True, many Magus families had the same attitude, but the von Einzberns took it up to another level. They were one of the three Founding Families of the Fuyuki Holy Grail Wars, and every year, they would produce the vessel that would become the Holy Grail.

The Holy Grail was not the drinking vessel that had once belonged to Christ, but rather, a magical artifact that could grant any wish, but to a single person. Not only that, but it was created as a pathway to Akasha, the Root of All Things, a noosphere of everything that was, is, and may yet be. But in order to manifest it, a vessel was needed. A living being. In all prior Grail Wars, the vessel was a Homunculus, known as a Lesser Grail.

In the most recent one, it was a Homunculus by the name of Irisviel, a woman who became something more than her purpose, even if she never fought against her fate. The reason why? Because of her husband, the man that the von Einzberns hired to win the Grail War on their behalf. A ruthless mercenary and assassin known by the sobriquet of the Magus Killer. His name was Kiritsugu Emiya. A man who wished to use the Grail to wish for what he thought was otherwise impossible. World peace, now and forever.

For such a goal, he was willing to do anything.

The Grail War involved summoning beings known as Heroic Spirits, heroes from myth, legend, and history, and having them as familiars known as Servants, fighting proxy battles. However, the Magi involved tended to be ruthless and vicious, with only a couple of exceptions. Kiritsugu was no exception, and his relationship with his Servant, Saber, aka King Arthur (who was actually a woman called Arturia: yet another distortion of history) was far from good. Kiritsugu viewed her as a tool, and her chivalry and heroism as contemptible, given the wars and atrocities heroes inspired, never allowing himself to consider that heroes did as much good as they did ill.

Kiritsugu, however, learned a horrific truth as the Grail War came to a close. The Grail was tainted by the spirit of Angra Mainyu, a Zoroastrian devil who had once been a man, long ago, before being made into a scapegoat, suffering for being the embodiment of the evils of the world. Angra Mainyu had tainted the Grail since the von Einzberns cheated in the previous Grail War. And it intended to grant Kiritsugu his wish for world peace…by wiping out humanity. Kiritsugu refused, and for his pains, was cursed, his magic crippled, and his life shaved away by increments.

In desperation to stop Angra Mainyu from being released, Kiritsugu forced Arturia to destroy the Grail, never explaining to her why. She disappeared in anguish. But the Grail managed to take one last bit of revenge: it unleashed a vile substance on Fuyuki, causing a fire that killed hundreds. Kiritsugu, desperate, found one survivor, a child stripped of his memories prior to the fire. All he had left was a name: Shirou.

Kiritsugu adopted Shirou, but he also had another child, one he wanted to retrieve, or at least see before he died. Illyasviel, his daughter with Irisviel. Half-Homunculus, and sure to become the next Lesser Grail now that he had failed.

The von Einzberns never wanted to listen to him, let him explain why he destroyed the Grail. He tried, but they refused. As far as they were concerned, he was a traitor and a wasted investment, not even worth the effort of killing given his crippled magic. Which was why he made a couple of attempts already to try and infiltrate the Einzbern Castle and retrieve Illya. But he failed, due to his crippled magic ability.

The third time, however, he got a lucky break. Illya had escaped the castle, mostly out of boredom, and had had enough of being kept in the castle. And Kiritsugu was soon hot on her heels. So too were the von Einzberns. And, by coincidence, Illya had been herded by her pursuers to Mount Ebott. Kiritsugu managed to intercept her…but they both ended up falling into a hole, leading deep beneath the ground…

…And this was where the story truly began…

* * *

Once, in an attempt to try and coax Kiritsugu into holding his daughter, Irisviel said that Illya had her father's eyes. In truth, she looked very much like a younger version of her mother. She had the albino looks of a von Einzbern Homunculus, particularly those modelled on Justeaze von Einzbern, the Homunculus who became the core of the Holy Grail. Pale skin, silvery-white hair, blood red eyes, and an inhumanly beautiful face…or at least she would should she ever reach adulthood. As it was, she was instead rather cute…and the sad truth was, given how she was both half-Homunculus and had been modified over her short life, she would never reach adulthood, at least in terms of physical growth.

With a soft groan, Illya roused herself from unconsciousness, finding herself on top of something rather soft. She realised that she had landed on top of her father, though while unconscious, he didn't seem injured from either his own landing or cushioning Illya's own. His handsome, albeit stubble-marred features seemed more haggard than Illya remembered, his hair even messier than before.

She fought back a scowl when she remembered what Old Man Acht, AKA Jubstacheit von Einzbern, had told her. He claimed that her father had betrayed the von Einzberns, and had replaced Illya with some no-name orphan boy. For a moment, her anger was on her father…until she realised that Acht had said that Kiritsugu didn't care about her anymore, hadn't come back for her, and never would. If not…why was he here? Some of the anger turned onto Old Man Acht…but some still remained directed at her father.

After all, Acht had told her who her father really was: a mercenary, an assassin, the infamous Magus Killer. And while a Magus walked hand in hand with death every time they embarked on magecraft research, Acht seemed to imply that her father was a soulless, heartless monster and a hypocrite, a mercenary who had deliberately betrayed the von Einzberns in the task he was paid to perform.

Illya couldn't reconcile that with the game she used to play with Kiritsugu, of counting walnut buds in the snow. Of the love she knew he showed her. And the fact that he was here and now…having tried to cushion her fall with his own body.

She looked around the cavern they were in, getting up, feeling a throb from her bruised body. It had a dim but gentle light, and it seemed they had landed in some sort of underground garden. Yellow flowers were everywhere. It was an oddly beautiful place, she felt. A stone passageway led off into darkness, where she could vaguely see a stone archway.

An impish notion came over Illya's mind. Maybe she had ended up falling down a rabbit hole, like Alice, and had ended up in Wonderland. But then, that line of thought was brutally derailed when she remembered where she was.

She knew the legends about Mount Ebott. She knew it was where monsters had been sealed by her family after the great war, to stop any from breaking out again. She didn't know there were ulterior motives, but that wasn't the point. The point was that she realised that she was currently in a cave that may be linked to the subterranean civilisation of the monsters her family imprisoned. Her family. And she doubted that any monster would be glad to see a von Einzbern.

Not unless revenge was on the table, anyway.

Illya, realising she might need all the help she could get, turned her attention back to her father. She had some small knowledge of first aid and medicine: all von Einzberns did, all the better to create Homunculi. After checking over her father, she realised he was badly concussed, and might remain unconscious for some time yet. She cursed quietly to herself. She knew some healing magic, but she wasn't sure she could heal this type of injury. Either a more experienced Magus, or else a hospital, would be a better choice.

Then, from the passage, she heard footsteps. The faint clacking of nails or claws on tiles. In a panic, Illya was about to drag her father away from where he had fallen when she realised that to move him without being careful could cause some sort of complication. She cursed herself. She was still too attached to this man who was a killer, an assassin, a mercenary who had gone against his employers.

 _My father. I can't abandon my father. Acht was wrong, he didn't abandon me, I can't abandon him, I can't, I can't, I can't_ …

Illya fought down her panic. She may be young, but she was already versed in more than a few magecraft abilities that could be used against any aggressors. Whatever was coming might be vicious, it might be too much for her…but she was damned if she was going to die without a fight. As she readied herself to fight, she saw that the monster was emerging from the darkness, and into the dim light of the cave. She tensed…until she saw the monster.

The thing that emerged could only be described as some kind of goat woman. She was tall, dressed in a tabard with an elaborate sigil on it, consisting of three triangles and a winged symbol. Her face was gentle, with a long muzzle, floppy ears, and a coating of white fur. Two short horns poked up from her head, while a couple of fangs poked out of her mouth in a manner that was more endearing than sinister.

And the moment she saw them properly, her hands flew to her mouth in shock. "Two humans? A girl, and a man…are you hurt, my child?"

"I'm not your child!" Illya retorted, in a somewhat petulant manner. "Stay away!"

The monster held up her hands in a placatory gesture. "I mean you no harm. I am Toriel, the caretaker of these Ruins. I patrol here each day to see if any humans have fallen down. To have two fall down is unheard of until now. That man…is he your father?"

"…Yes."

"He is hurt. Concussed. I can help him."

"Stay away from him!" Illya snapped.

"Don't be stubborn, child! Your father is injured, he needs help!"

"You want to kill him! You want to kill humans in revenge for being imprisoned, don't you?!"

Toriel blinked, before she said, "No. Not I, anyway. Child, I want to help you. Because if I truly wanted to kill you…" Suddenly, with a gesture, a fireball screamed through the air from the monster's hand, singing Illya's hair. "There'd be little you could do about it."

The casual display of pyrokinesis actually shocked Illya, and she didn't realise that the monster had approached them until she saw Toriel pressing her hands onto Kiritsugu's head. A green glow gently enveloped his head. After a few seconds, Toriel said, quietly, "The damage to his head has been mended. But he will remain unconscious for some time." With that, she took Kiritsugu up in her arms, and said, "Please, follow me, child."

"Illya. I am Illyasviel von…I mean, Illyasviel Emiya."

Toriel seemed to notice her slip-up, but all she did was narrow her eyes in thoughtfulness. But she said little on the way back, save for giving her directions while they made their way through the Ruins. Still, Illya had to wonder, what did Toriel have to gain by helping them?

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Bit of a slow start, but here you go. Instead of Frisk, it's Illya and Kiritsugu who've ended up in the Underground.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	6. Justice for the Underground Chapter 2

_**JUSTICE FOR THE UNDERGROUND**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THE MONSTER QUEEN AND THE MAGUS KILLER**

The moment Kiritsugu Emiya had woken up, he looked around for what he needed. He needed to find Illya, he needed his weapons…and he needed to know where he was. But as he tried to sit up, the room span, and he collapsed back onto the bed he was lying on with a groan. He was in some kind of bedroom, he realised, a rather normal one, too.

"Oh, you're awake. Please, don't sit up so suddenly. I cured you of a rather nasty head injury."

The voice was gentle, feminine and maternal. His eyes flickered over to the source…and stopped. And stared. He fought down a surge of panic when he saw what had spoken, an instinctive urge to flee for his life, or fight. Whatever it was, it was certainly not human.

It looked like for all the world like an anthropomorphic goat, dressed in a purple and lilac tabard with a distinctive, apparently mystical symbol on the front. After a moment, Kiritsugu decided that if he was this monster's prisoner, there was little he could do about it until he shook off what had to be a concussion. Actually, was this goat-person a hallucination brought about by brain damage? And, of course, Kiritsugu, for all his paranoia and assuming the worst of people, did think that, whatever this being was, it was probably benign.

"Where's Illya?" he groaned.

"Your daughter's safe. She was eager to read our history, and I gave her a book to entertain herself with," the goat-person said. He realised that it had a rather feminine voice and physique. After a moment, Kiritsugu decided to stop calling the goat-person an it, and decided to call it a she. "She said your name was Kiritsugu Emiya, and you are a human Magus. I am Toriel."

"Well, forgive me for not getting up, but I'm a bit concussed."

Toriel chuckled. "Well, head injuries require heady medicine." She chuckled again at her bad pun. But after a while, she became pensive. "You are the first adult human to fall into Mount Ebott since we were sealed here. And while Illya seemed rather recalcitrant to talk to me, she said she was running away from home, that her family had lied to her about you. Her greatest concern seemed to be for your wellbeing. Thankfully, I am versed in the healing arts. All you need now is some rest. But I wanted to know what Illya wasn't telling us. Could you shed some light on the matter, please?"

Kiritsugu was wary. While Toriel's attitude seemed genuinely benign, he wasn't sure what he could say. He was, after all, in an unknown situation. And to tell the truth, he couldn't quite remember what actually happened, only that he was pursuing Illya up Mount Ebott. He had heard of the legend of the war between the monsters and the local humans from his wife…and he knew the von Einzberns had a hand in sealing them away.

After a moment's consideration, Kiritsugu made his decision. Some degree of frankness was needed here, lest it come out later and complicate things. "Can I have your word that you won't do us any harm if we do not harm you?"

"Of course."

"Very well. My name is Kiritsugu Emiya, but I am known in Magi circles as the Magus Killer. I'm an assassin, a mercenary for hire…or I used to be."

"An assassin?" Toriel asked, her brows furrowing. "You're a hired killer?"

Kiritsugu nodded. "I was frequently hired by the Magus Association to deal with problematic Magi, those who crossed the line. I also did mercenary work with more mundane humans. Then, eleven years ago, I was retained by the von Einzbern family."

He didn't fail to notice the shock on her face, the way her eyes widened, and then narrowed. "For what purpose?"

"To win the Holy Grail War…"

* * *

It had the air of a confession. Kiritsugu told Toriel the salient facts of the Fuyuki Holy Grail War he had participated in. He nearly omitted the fact that Irisviel was the Lesser Grail, until he decided that, if he wanted them to help, he should tell her, if only to emphasise that he wanted to save Illya from the same fate.

After he finished, Toriel sat there in silence, contemplating what he told her. The silent contemplation could be good or bad. At least she was considering things.

"Mr Emiya," she finally said, "I thank you for being so frank. I don't consider you or your daughter a threat, though. You stumbled into our world through happenstance, and you have the air of a man who considers himself carefully before engaging in conflict."

"With all due respect, you don't know me well enough to say that, Toriel," Kiritsugu said with a bitter smile. "I have killed people who haven't been a direct threat to me personally. The creed I lived by…it was a false one, redressing the scales of justice. Kill the few to safeguard the many…"

"I cannot condone your actions. But your ideal for peace was laudable enough. And I know you hated doing this. You tried to retrieve Illya partly because she was your daughter, but also to save her from the same fate as her mother. I too know what it is like to lose loved ones."

"What do you mean?"

After a moment, Toriel admitted, "I used to be Queen of the Underground. And one day, my former husband Asgore and I were blessed with a beautiful son, Asriel. Some years afterwards, a human boy called Chara fell into the Underground. We later learned that he was an orphan, taken in by the von Einzberns as part of magecraft experiments. But such things happening to him made Chara somewhat misanthropic. However, he became part of the family. But then, tragedy struck. Chara fell ill, and we could do nothing to stop him from dying. His last wish was to be able to see the flowers of his village one last time. And then, it happened. Asriel absorbed Chara's soul. Certain monsters, known as 'boss monsters', can absorb human souls. And Asriel, being my progeny and that of Asgore…was able to absorb Chara's soul. He transformed, made his way through the Barrier carrying Chara's body…but when he brought the body back…"

"I think I can guess. The villagers attacked him, thinking he murdered Chara."

"That is probably what happened. Asriel didn't fight back. Instead, he managed to get back here, along with Chara's corpse. He collapsed in the middle of a flower garden he loved…told us what had happened, and then dissolved into dust."

Kiritsugu had to admit, he was horrified. To lose one's children, one of blood, the other by adoption…he had come across many horrors and examples of man's inhumanity to man, but this still chilled him. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said, sincerely.

"It happened decades ago," Toriel said quietly. "But what happened next only compounded things. It's why you and Illya are in very grave danger. Asgore, in his dubious wisdom, declared war on humanity. Any humans who fell down here were to be either killed on sight, or else delivered to him. He intended to use the souls of the humans in order to escape the Underground, to free us. But I thought that too high a price to pay. I knew my former husband regretted his words once he said them, but because they had given our people hope after so long, he was forced to abide by them. Even if it was false hope based on the lives of innocents."

"You didn't take kindly to that," Kiritsugu pointed out. "I mean, if you were still living with him…we'd be dead already."

Toriel nodded. "I had an argument, a bad one. I hated what he was doing. He didn't even have the wherewithal to take a human soul for himself, pass the Barrier, and harvest the remaining souls from there. Not that I'd agree with such a line of action. To fight in self-defence is one thing, when all other options are exhausted. But to commit murder out of misplaced revenge…I couldn't countenance it." Toriel chuckled ruefully. "I don't know who's the bigger coward. Asgore, for not retracting his declaration, or myself."

"You? But…"

"Mr Emiya, I was their Queen. I abdicated at a time when my people needed guidance, when I could have mitigated Asgore's declaration. There are ways we could have obtained the souls without murder. But no. I couldn't stand to be anywhere near Asgore, and those who supported him. I have lived with the shame and guilt ever since. Especially as, before this point, six children have passed through this house…into the Underground proper…and to their deaths. Asgore only needs a single soul to break the Barrier now."

"He killed six children," Kiritsugu said quietly. The sad thing was, he had done worse in his time as the Magus Killer.

"Indeed. Which is why I want you to stay here with Illya," Toriel said quietly.

"Toriel…can I ask you something?" Kiritsugu asked. "How long do you reckon it would be before the von Einzberns came after Illya? I told you what she is to them. They would do anything to get her back, and if they suspect we fell into the Underground…"

Toriel blinked when she realised what he meant. The von Einzberns would tear her people apart if they weren't warned. "Oh. But if you leave the Ruins…"

"Toriel, I can look after myself. I can look after you and Illya. I may be dying, but I'm not wholly useless yet. I can't use magic much anymore. But I can aim and fire a gun."

"Then I should send out a warning. We'll leave if necessary. But I have…a friend of sorts. I made him promise that, should any humans pass through into Snowdin, he should help them. But I believe he is a sentry involved in security around Snowdin, albeit one who does not hold the same anti-human views as the rest of the Underground. Though to be fair, most monsters wouldn't know what a human looks like."

"You trust him?"

"More than I trust you, Mr Emiya. You have been frank with me, but you are a self-confessed assassin and mercenary who has worked for the very same family that kept us imprisoned."

Kiritsugu chuckled bitterly. "I understand. I'm not exactly the most trustworthy person."

"I know. I am doing this more for your daughter's sake." She stood, and made for the door. "I'll let Illya know that you're up. And then, I'll go and see if my friend is there."

A few minutes after Toriel left the room, Illya poked her head in. "Daddy?" she asked.

Kiritsugu gave a shaky smile to his daughter. "Hello, Illya. Are you all right?"

"…I don't know. Grandpa Acht told me…all sorts of things about you and mother. I just want to know…what happened? Why didn't you come back until now? And what's with the boy you adopted in Fuyuki?"

Kiritsugu closed his eyes and gathered himself. His daughter may be young and acted that way, but she was also frighteningly intelligent for her age, and she had some of the attitude of a Magus, too much for her age. She could handle a summary of what happened. He told her, in brief, what had happened to Irisviel, to her mother, to his wife. Why he had to destroy the Grail. He didn't tell her the gory details, especially about how Angra Mainyu had manifested itself as Irisviel, how, in order to reject Angra Mainyu, he had shot a dream version of Illya and throttled his wife, taken over by Angra Mainyu, to death.

What shook him most wasn't an angry outburst, but a quiet acceptance. Illya was actually weeping, trails of tears running from her eyes. "So that's what Mum meant when she said…" She swallowed. After a moment, she said, "You've come to take me back to Fuyuki?"

"Yes. You've got a little brother now, Illya. He was never meant to replace you. I just needed to save someone, anyone, from that mess. He was the only survivor I could find in the fire."

Illya looked pensive, biting her lip as tears trickled down her face. "So, what they said about you being an assassin…it's true?"

Kiritsugu nodded. "I tried to shield you from that, Illya. I tried to obtain the Grail so that you could grow up in a world forever peaceful. And so that you didn't go through what your mother did. When you were born, your mother tried to have me hold you. I told her I had no right to hold you, because of what I did as the Magus Killer."

Illya, after a moment, said, "I need some time to think." She left the room. Kiritsugu sighed. It was almost as bad as if she had thrown an outright tantrum, if not worse. He couldn't tell how badly she had taken the news of her true nature, and that of her mother.

Another few minutes passed, before he heard a conversation distantly. Toriel speaking to someone. "…A face to a name, even if it's only a _bare-bones_ friendship."

A chuckle, and then, a deep, gentle, lazy drawl came from someone else. "Not gonna _fibula_ , but it's good to meet you too, Toriel."

Toriel laughed, a bit too much at the bad pun. She then said, "Oh, Illya's outside. I'll go talk to her, and you can talk to Mr Emiya, Sans. Try not to _rib_ him too much."

"Okay. _Tibia_ honest, it'd be interesting to talk to a human," the now-named Sans said. The door opened, and Kiritsugu tensed, just in case Toriel was fooled and Sans turned out to be an enemy. A squat shape waddled in, dressed in a blue hoodie, what looked like tracksuit pants, his body language a strange combination of laziness and alertness.

However, it was, for all the world, an ambulatory skeleton. A bit cartoonish, with a perpetual lazy grin that seemed to make him endearing rather than sinister, with a pair of glowing lights in the eyesockets for eyes, but a skeleton.

"Huh, and here I was thinking all those boneheaded puns were being done for no reason," Kiritsugu said.

Sans chuckled. "Yeah, well, Toriel and I love that sort of thing. So, you're some magical assassin, huh? I can tell, at least about the assassin part."

"You can?"

Sans tapped the edge of an eyesocket. "Most who know me think I don't have any real talents beyond lazing around and making bad puns. I can discern a being's LOVE, or Level Of Violence. Think of it as a measure of how much killing you've done. Of course, I can also tell whether you have gained LOVE in the Underground. You have pretty high LOVE, higher than I've ever seen, but it's all outside here, and from what Toriel said, you're here to help your daughter. Now, I don't give out trust that easily, and while I think Toriel's a good judge of character, and you did well in confessing what you did to her, I'll put it to you bluntly. Hurt her, or anyone I care about, and, well…" He closed his eyesockets, as if they were eyelids, before they reopened, revealing a dark abyss. " _You're gonna have a bad time_ …"

Kiritsugu had made threats and received them. But never had he been so intimidated by a threat than that delivered by Sans. He could all but feel the power radiating from Sans. And he knew that Sans would be capable of following through on his threat. He just had to hope that Sans was as much an ally as Toriel claimed, or else he and Illya were in trouble…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. Kiritsugu has met both Toriel and Sans. For those of you wondering where Flowey is, well, he'll turn up soon enough…**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	7. Vi Veri Universum Vivus Vici Chapter 1

**This one was an idea I nutted out when I saw, as far as I can tell, a lack of crossovers between the _Resident Evil_ games and _Fate/Stay Night_. Out of the possible characters who could get involved in the Grail War, I found Alexia an interesting possibility. I think she would suit the cold amorality of a Magus quite well. Still, the idea petered out when I hadn't even finished this chapter, so this story at least may not see the light of day, at least for a while...**

* * *

 _ **VI VERI UNIVERSUM VIVUS VICI**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE SUMMONING**

 _The swell of anger inside her was palpable as she read her father's notes. No, not her father. Not even a glorified sperm-donor. No, he was their_ _ **creator**_ _at best. She and her brother had been created to try and make them into the second coming of their illustrious ancestor. Now all those strange experiments, the pain he put her through, they made sense._

 _Her brother was having a conniption, as was his wont to do. They were in the workshop of their father, hidden behind a trick portrait within the mansion in the Antarctic Base. Though it seemed more like a combination of library, study and alchemy laboratory than a genetic engineering lab. Which was odd, unless that was the real reason her father was such a laughing stock in the company, that he was obsessed with the pseudoscience of alchemy._

 _While her brother's anger ran hot, like a blazing house, her anger grew cold, colder than liquid nitrogen. Her blue eyes became icy. But then, she found something that almost startled her out of her anger._

 _Tucked into the back of the notebook was an envelope, addressed to her in her father's cursive script. Her brother, who was ranting and raving like the spoiled little boy he was, hadn't noticed, even as she tucked the envelope into her dress. "Brother," she said quietly. "We will consider what to do about…_ _ **father**_ _later. Let us go, before he notices his earring is missing."_

 _He nodded, reluctantly. Her dear, sweet fool of a brother. Ready to obey her slightest whim. She was his world…but he was not hers._

 _It wasn't until she had ensured that her brother would not do anything rash, and that she had been sequestered in her own private laboratory, that she gathered the courage to open up the letter. And what she read there would change her world forever…_

* * *

Over a decade later, Alexia Ashford peered at the letter once more. It was the thing that had catalysed the path she now walked down. Not quite the path her father envisioned her to follow, true, but it was close enough. Not that he could appreciate it.

But it had proved to be the spur that had changed her life. Whether for better or for worse remained to be seen, but it was certainly more interesting.

 _Dearest Alexia,_

 _As I write this, I know of you and your brother's increasing curiosity about my personal workshop. This is why I wrote this, and placed it in my notebook, where you would find it. You have already read one confession in my notebooks, how you were created to be a new Veronica Ashford…but this letter is another._

 _The Ashfords are more than an aristocratic line of biologists, Alexia. You may find this hard to believe, raised as a scientist and a prodigy at that for much of your life…but we used to be a line of what are known as Magi, singular Magus. In short, in our blood runs magic. Or rather, it used to._

 _You are doubtless receiving this news with the incredulity and disbelief that such a discovery warrants normally, but it is true. Magic, or rather, magecraft, exists. I cannot fit the full explanation of how it works into a necessarily short epistle, and there are many elements of it that would be doubtless frustrating to the scientist within you._

 _I have debated with myself endlessly whether to tell you this, given the ill you may make of magecraft, but I have decided that it is your destiny. Veronica Ashford was the last great Magus of our family, and you are her legacy. There is also the matter of the Magus Association and Sealing Designations, and other things you must be educated on._

 _If you wish to know more, head to our family library. I have hidden a primer on magecraft within what appears to be a copy of a first edition of_ The Hobbit, _as I knew neither of you were of the inclination to read fantasy. Should you do so, then approach me for further training, discreetly._

 _I hope that you will come to restore the Ashford family name one day, both in the eyes of Umbrella, and in the eyes of the Magus Association. That is my most ardent dream, one I hope you will come to share, despite my deception._

 _Faithfully yours,_

 _Alexander Ashford_

Alexia snorted in disdain. Despite her efforts, the Ashford name was not as well-received in Umbrella as it used to, though that was partly due to Spencer doing his best to erase his co-founders' achievements from history. Marcus was dead, supposedly in an accident, though when she met Albert Wesker shortly afterwards, he had confided in her that he and Birkin had led a group of soldiers to assassinate Marcus on Spencer's orders. Part of the reason why Alexia was able to do as much as she had was because she kept her private research quiet, while toeing the party line. Though she was planning for the day when she would overthrow Spencer, that paranoid antediluvian bastard.

And she was so much more powerful than she was. Thanks to what she learned of magecraft under her father, she was able to reduce the incubation time for T-Veronica, at least to gain power without losing sanity. A week spent in a stasis tank, and she had the power of a goddess.

Of course, given what she knew of the Magus Association, she was understandably cautious. That was why she kept her experiments as under the radar as possible. Umbrella was already known to some to perform a number of unethical experiments, although to be fair, that was mostly their bioweapon client base. It wouldn't do her any good to act on her ambitions before she was sure she could crush any opposition. Patience was key. Such a thing seemed anathema to someone with the unbridled megalomania that seemed a job requirement for working at Umbrella, but learning magecraft had taught her patience, more so than before.

In any case, it would not do for Spencer to learn that she had already augmented herself, and was now holding the very reins of godhood he desired for himself. Paranoid old bastard would try to kill her for what he would consider to be her insolence.

There was a knock on the door to her study. Alexia sighed, putting the letter away, before getting up from her chair. "Enter."

The door was opened, and a tall form entered the study. It was a woman, about two metres tall, with a short mop of blonde hair. Her extraordinary height was married with a build that was more athletic than overly muscled, hidden by a severe suit. Her face was surprisingly attractive, though habitually in a somewhat stoic expression. Although apparently in her twenties, she was actually in her forties.

The woman nowadays went by the name of Sentinel, but her birth name was Lisa Trevor. Her father was the main architect of the Spencer Mansion in the Arklay Mountains outside Raccoon City. However, Ozwell E Spencer, determined to ensure George Trevor didn't divulge any secrets, trapped George within the depths of his own mansion, with Lisa and her mother subjected to human testing of Progenitor, the forerunner virus to the T-Virus, T-Veronica, and the G-Virus William Birkin was so obsessed about. Indeed, the G-Virus had been born deep within Lisa Trevor's ravaged body.

Lisa survived the viral experiments, but was twisted into a scarecrow parody of a human being, a malformed monster looking for her mother who died long ago. However, a year ago, Alexia had the idea of using Lisa as an experimental subject for a magecraft-controlled virus she called Hecate. Astonishingly, Lisa came full circle, her form becoming human once more, albeit changed into something not unlike a Tyrant. Her mind became lucid once more, though she still wished for revenge against Umbrella, and against Spencer.

The official story was that Lisa Trevor died shortly after Alexia experimented upon her. Neither Birkin nor Spencer gave a damn, and Wesker was also indifferent. Sentinel, Alexia claimed, was a prototype Tyrant based on female physiology, and with extra modifications to retain intelligence. Of course, Lisa Trevor was Sentinel, and Alexia had managed to, with a little difficulty, win the loyalty of the damaged woman.

And, miracles of miracles, Lisa was also able to use magecraft. Alexia actually found dormant Magic Circuits within Lisa when she was first sent to Rockfort Island (where they were now), and Hecate presumably woke them up.

"Well?" Alexia asked.

"I've drawn out the circle as requested," Lisa reported. "All is prepared. Mr Velvet is ready too."

"Thank you. Though you could have used our mental link, Lisa," Alexia said with a frown.

"I could have used the telephone too," Lisa said pointedly. "I still find it hard to believe what you claim about this…Holy Grail War. It sounds like something out of a fantasy novel."

"Of course, but with magecraft involved, a lot of things do," Alexia said, walking out the door, with Lisa following her. "It does sound rather fantastic, that the spirits of heroes from myth and history will be summoned as familiars to fight a tournament of sorts in Japan. The only reason I am participating is that the Holy Grail sounds like an extraordinary artifact. According to the notes my father left me, it is a gateway to what the Magi call Akasha, the Root of All Things. A noosphere of everything that is, was, and can be. In addition, there is of course the wish it can grant you, once six of the seven Servants are slain."

"And what is your wish, world domination?"

"As if I would wish for something so mundane or gauche. I could do that if I wished, anyway, with little help from some magical artifact. In truth, I am still considering my wish. However, I think I shall try to summon a Servant. It is somewhat early, according to my contacts at Clock Tower, but I am still able to do so. In any case, I am grateful to Mr Velvet for bringing me that artifact he stole from Lord El-Melloi. I will use that artifact myself, and have Mr Velvet summon another Servant."

"I'm surprised you allowed him to be safely infected with Veronica," Lisa said.

"I need more people under me. It was my grandfather who taught his grandmother about magecraft in the first place, and he is desperate for power and prestige. Veronica does place him under my control, if necessary. Or he will follow the same fate as my father. As it is, Alfred can administer Rockfort without me. He may be a fool and feel an infatuation for me I do not reciprocate, but he is not an idiot."

* * *

Alexia peered at the summoning circle, scrutinising the patterns Lisa had drawn out on the floor of the large chamber, once a lecture hall, Lisa and Waver looking on. "Hmm…perfect. I shall go first, Mr Velvet. Then, I will have you summon your Servant."

Waver Velvet looked unimpressive. Even for his 19 years of age, he looked to still be in his mid-teens, with neck-length black hair and a rather short stature. His features were had an earnest, bookish air. "So, you'll be summoning Rider? And what will I summon?"

"We'll go for pot luck there. Now, let's get on with this, shall we?" Alexia calmed herself, before she began pumping mana into the circle. She then began the chant, as light began to flare from the circle. " _Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world, that I shall defeat all evil in the world! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!_ "

There was one last great strobing flare, a brief sting of pain in her right hand, the circle dissolving into brilliant light. Alexia blinked away the afterimage, and then smiled at the man she saw standing in the ritual circle. Tall, proud, and muscular, with tanned skin and red hair and a beard. He was dressed in battle dress, over which he wore a blood-red cloak.

"Servant Rider has answered your summons," the man said in a rasping rumble of a voice. "I ask of you, are you my Master?"

Alexia smirked, before showing the Command Seals now etched into her hand. "Well met, Rider…or would you prefer Alexander the Great, or Iskandar?"

The burly Servant looked at Alexia, before answering Alexia's smirk with a grin of his own. "Iskandar. It seems that the pact is sealed."

"Oh, indeed. I think this is going to be interesting…" Alexia purred.

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, here you have it. Alexia has summoned Rider. But who will Waver summon?**

 **No numbered annotations for this chapter.**


	8. Expiation Chapter 1 (Original)

**At long last, I'm attempting another _Fate/Stay Night_ crossover (after _Perils of Magical Investigative Journalism_ ), as opposed to a _Fate/Zero_ one. It's also another Medea-heavy one, but an intriguing one. You see, thanks to whitetigerwolf's challenges, I got into the film _John Wick_ , and having enjoyed that, tried to do some stories, though as of this writing, I've only published one as a full story: a one-shot crossover with _The Sandman_ called _Death and Baba Yaga_.**

 **That being said, this one intrigues me. Firstly, as of this writing, there are no crossovers between the Nasuverse and _John Wick_ , and given how John Wick seems rather a lot like Kiritsugu Emiya in many ways, I'm actually surprised. Hell, I reckon Keanu Reeves would make a great Kiritsugu, should they ever do a live-action version of _Fate/Zero_.**

 **Secondly, as followers of my stories might note, I'm a big fan of the _Fate/Stay Night_ Caster, aka Medea, and like to try and do stories where she gets a better ending, with my best so far being my _Thor_ crossover _Light the Blue Touch Paper and Run Like Hell_.**

 **Thirdly, John Wick provides a contrast to Kuzuki, Medea's canonical Master. While both are retired assassins, John is more moral than Kuzuki, who doesn't object to Medea's methods and is considerably amoral. In this story, John is also a Magus, albeit one who is even worse than Shirou at magecraft, only knowing Reinforcement and Structural Analysis. But he has enough magic circuits to sustain Medea, and as he will have a connection to Shirou and Illya (who was rescued from the von Einzberns by John in the backstory), the dynamic of this Holy Grail War will be changed.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy this...**

 **EDIT (24/8/2017): Okay, I decided to change things with the story. Having John meet up with Shirou and Illya too early on would cut down too much on the character conflict. So, I decided to have John meet Kuzuki (he knows Kiritsugu is dead, but doesn't know whether Shirou and Illya are still living at the same address) and Medea first and by the time they actually meet, John will be enemies against Shirou and Illya. John won't want to actually kill them, but like Kiritsugu, he will be more focused on getting his wish (reviving Helen and Daisy), while Shirou and Illya, who were told about Angra Mainyu by Kiritsugu, want to destroy the Grail. They will eventually team up, but not before they are adversaries first.**

 **Keep an eye out for the revised chapters later.**

* * *

 _ **EXPIATION (ORIGINAL)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **BABA YAGA COMES TO FUYUKI**

In an office, a grizzled old man is handed a telephone by a lackey. A little impatiently, he answers it. "Yes?" he asks imperiously in his native Japanese, and he's a little surprised to hear the reply in English.

" _Raiga, my dear fellow, how are you?_ "

Raiga Fujimura winced. It had been a somewhat trying day, and he had just been short to one of the most powerful men in the world, even if he wasn't publicly acknowledged as such. In English, he replied, "Physically, I'm as well as can be expected, Winston. However, you must forgive my lack of propriety earlier. I have just had to make an example of a couple of fools trying to muscle in on my turf, and it has been a rather sordid chore."

There was a soft chuckle on the other end. " _I'm sorry to hear that, old friend. Sadly, I have some news that might not help matters. I rang you as a courtesy. John Wick is coming to Fuyuki._ "

At that, Raiga felt a chill come over his heart. "I sincerely hope this is not some poor attempt at humour, Winston. I had thought that Baba Yaga had been retired for some time."

" _And you thought correctly, old friend. Unfortunately, Jonathan ran afoul of a rather severe case of bad luck. His wife died of a terminal illness, and left Jonathan a dog to keep him company. Unfortunately, the son of Viggo Tarasov noticed Jonathan's car, and, not knowing who Jonathan was, tried to procure it, first by money, and then, by breaking into his house, brutalising Jonathan, and murdering his dog._ "

Raiga hissed quietly. "…I am guessing that it did not end well for the Tarasov boy."

" _Nor for Viggo himself. They are both dead, and their organisation is in tatters. So too is Marcus, by Viggo's hand. And Miss Perkins…well, she foolishly flouted the Continental's rules of no business on the premises by attempting to kill Jonathan, and paid for it with the customary price._ "

Which meant she was stupid enough to try and assassinate someone on the Continental's premises, and was executed for her troubles. Raiga certainly knew of both assassins. Eventually, he said, "So why is John Wick coming here?"

" _After Jonathan decimated Viggo's organisation, I suggested he get out of town for some time. I'm glad that fool Santino D'Antonio got himself killed trying to overthrow his sister in a coup d'etat. I thought he might have tried to hire Jonathan. As it is, Jonathan wants another chance to begin anew, and he decided to call in at the home of Kiritsugu Emiya._ "

Raiga frowned. That could be a problem, not least because his own granddaughter Taiga was a frequent visitor to that home. "That may be a problem, Winston. Emiya died nearly five years ago. In fact, I am fairly certain Baba Yaga last met him about two years before he did die, when that Illyasviel girl arrived here."

" _Indeed. I believe Jonathan helped Emiya retrieve Illya from her mother's family, and caused quite a mess. You and I know what world they belong to, Raiga, and frankly, the von Einzberns deserved it. Jonathan is aware that Kiritsugu is dead. He is hoping to stay with the children. I think he's looking for a family again._ "

"Very well. I'll keep an eye on him, but I'm not foolish enough to rouse the Baba Yaga from his slumber…as long as he does nothing to my granddaughter."

" _He won't. Jonathan only wants a quiet life, Raiga. If we're lucky, Fuyuki will give him what New York couldn't, what happened nine years ago aside._ "

"The Fuyuki Fire…yes, I remember it. Emiya's adoptive son, the one my granddaughter mooches off, he was the only survivor. Shirou…yes, his name is Shirou…"

* * *

The taxi drove away, leaving the tall, thin man in the immaculate dark suit on the side of the road. Dark hair framed handsome, if lugubrious features of uncertain lineage. Certainly, he could have passed for part-Japanese, and he spoke it like a native, amongst many other languages.

He looked at the old-style Japanese mansion he had been left in front of, and went through the gate, before heading to the front door and knocking. The door was eventually answered by a boy in his late teens, with red hair and golden eyes. "Can I help you?" the boy asked.

"Perhaps. Are you Shirou Emiya?"

"Yes. Could you tell me your name, please?"

"John Wick," the man said.

"Hey, little brother, who is it?" came the voice of a girl about the same age.

"He says his name is John Wick, Illya!" Shirou called over his shoulder.

"What?" Then, a girl in her late teens with extraordinarily pale skin, snow-white hair, and crimson eyes peered out from behind Shirou. "Oh. Wow, so it really is you, Mr Wick!"

"Illya, you've grown," John said with a tired smile. "You look so much like your mother. May I come in?"

"Sure, sure!" Illya chirped.

* * *

Shirou was bustling around in the kitchen, while Illya and John were sitting at a low table. "How long has it been? Six years? Seven?"

"Nearly seven," John said quietly. "I'm sorry I couldn't come to the funeral. I was on a job at the time. I had Winston send flowers and a card."

"Yes, I know, they were lovely," Illya said.

Shirou, who was bringing out some tea and coffee, asked, "Mr Wick…"

"John, please," John said.

"Okay. John…I'm curious, how did you know our father?"

"…Are you aware of what he did for a living?"

Shirou and Illya looked at each other, before Illya nodded. Shirou then said, "Dad and Illya told me a little. He was a mercenary, of sorts, an occasional assassin working for Clock Tower and other people. He didn't like talking about the past much, though."

"He and I moved in the same circles. I too am a mercenary. In many ways, we were very much alike. I too am a somewhat unconventional Magus, albeit with less ability than most. I generally stick to mundane methods. Bluntly, I was an assassin like your father."

"Was?" Illya asked.

"It's a fairly long story, so I'll only address the key points," John said. "I met the love of my life, a woman by the name of Helen. She was, dimly, aware of my profession, and wanted me to retire. I asked my then-employer, Viggo Tarasov, for permission. He gave me something of an impossible task that I fulfilled, so I was allowed to leave that world with my hide intact, or so I thought. A few weeks ago, Helen died."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Shirou said sincerely. John prided himself on reading people, and he could tell that Shirou had a very earnest, forthright personality. He didn't even seem fazed about John being an assassin. "Illya told me about her mother. I wish I could have met Irisviel."

"I met her myself once," John said. "Only once, admittedly. I had met her and that woman Saber in Hamburg just before they headed here. I had met Kiritsugu earlier, and he asked me to guard them before bringing them to the plane. Helen and Irisviel were very much alike. After she died, Helen left me a beagle. She felt I needed someone to love me after she died, and that beagle, Daisy, loved me from the beginning. But I only had her a couple of days." John's voice caught in his throat. He wasn't usually this verbose, especially to a couple of teenagers he barely knew. But they were the children of Kiritsugu Emiya.

"What happened?" Illya asked.

John shook his head. "It's rather painful to talk about, Illya. Daisy was killed by a group of thugs after my car. I dealt with them. However, New York's a little dangerous for me now. A mutual friend of mine and Kiritsugu's recommended I come here."

After he drank some tea to help settle himself, John heard Shirou ask, "Are you a Magus yourself, John?"

"Not much of one. I have access to all of my circuits, but I never had much of a knack for anything beyond Reinforcement and Structural Analysis," John said, grateful for the change in topic.

"You hear that Shirou? There is a Magus worse than you," Illya said. "Shirou here is good at Projection as well, but anything else…well, at least I managed to get his magic circuits working properly. I think Dad taught him improperly to try and discourage him from doing more magecraft."

"Given how dangerous magecraft is, I'm hardly surprised," John said quietly, not offended by Illya's assessment of him as being worse than Shirou. And judging by Shirou's expression, it was clearly something she teased him about often.

"We have our own joint Workshop," Illya said.

"And the Second Owner?"

"Is aware of our presence at most," Illya said. "Rin Tohsaka, the last of the Tohsaka family. Her father died nearly ten years ago, and her mother didn't last long after that, apparently. But we don't advertise what we do. And we don't trust the Matous one bit."

"Sakura's all right," Shirou said.

"I'll give you that much. Sakura's nice, though she's pretty much a doormat. But Shinji is a vicious little bastard who can't do magecraft worth squat. And what I heard about Zouken Matou…" Illya shuddered. "And there's that priest guy, Kotomine. Dad told me to stay away from him."

"Why?"

"Former Executor from the Burial Agency," Illya said. "And he and Dad fought each other nearly ten years ago."

* * *

The conversation, thankfully, moved onto more light topics, and John was grateful for that. Eventually, Illya asked, "So, what do you intend to do, John?"

"I don't know. I came here mostly to stay until the heat died down, but I can't impose on you for…"

"This house is pretty large, John," Shirou said. "It's just Illya and me staying here, with occasional visits from Big Sis Fuji and Sakura."

"Big Sis Fuji?" John asked.

"Taiga Fujimura," Illya explained.

John now knew why. What little he knew about Fuyuki was mostly centred around the Magi world, and the underworld. "Raiga's granddaughter, I assume?" he asked.

Illya nodded, and John sighed. Well, hopefully, it wouldn't cause any trouble. Although John had never actually met Raiga or had dealings with the yakuza gang he ran, he at least knew of Raiga and his temperament. As long as John didn't cause any trouble, he would be fine.

"She's my English teacher, and our guardian," Shirou explained. "She's not involved with…her grandfather's business."

"Unless you count her mooching off meals as theft," Illya pouted.

John couldn't help but chuckle. Shirou then said, "Look, you won't be any trouble. If Dad trusted you, I will too."

Illya seemed torn at the thought of that. Eventually, she nodded. And John decided he would accede. He was intending on staying at a hotel, at least until he could find a place, but if they were willing to help him, well, he would accept their help. "Thanks," John said quietly.

* * *

Later, John decided to walk around the town. Once his new dog got out of quarantine, he was going to have to take it on walks. And he needed to familiarise himself with the town.

He decided to head towards Mount Ryuudou, and the temple on top, to maybe pray to whatever deity existed for expiation of his sins. He wasn't sure whether there was a God, and he certainly didn't quite share Viggo's conviction that God stole Helen away as punishment for John's manifold sins.

There was a little more to this visit than that. Winston, while recommending Fuyuki as a place for John to stay, mentioned that another retired assassin was here. Soichirou Kuzuki had once worked for an organisation loosely affiliated to the Continental, but eventually quit. He was particularly noted for his mastery of the 'Snake' form of assassination martial arts. Kuzuki was said to reside at Ryuudou Temple, so Winston said, and John wished to pay his respects to his fellow retired assassin.

As it happened, he met his fellow assassin, just as it began to cloud over, at the foot to the steps to Ryuudou Temple. Judging by the way Kuzuki's eyes narrowed, he recognised John, despite the two not having met. "Wick," the man said.

"Kuzuki," John replied.

Kuzuki scrutinised him. John did the same, noting Kuzuki to be a tall, thin, ascetic-looking man with a strict expression. There was a strange emptiness to the man that had John feeling a chill, and he was cursing even thinking of approaching the man. "Why has the Baba Yaga come to Fuyuki? I had thought you retired after that job you did for the Russians in New York," Kuzuki observed, his voice deep and calm.

"I still am, but I brought down some heat on me in New York. The Continental suggested a relocation."

Kuzuki nodded. "You are not here to work, then?"

"No. Winston told me about you, and I just wanted to come to make sure that, if we met each other, there wouldn't be any misunderstandings."

"Very well," Kuzuki said. "But I too am retired from our world. I work as a teacher."

"Well, would you like to discuss life here in Fuyuki, as well as people I should watch out for?"

After a moment, Kuzuki nodded.

* * *

They discussed things as they went up the steps, rain pelting down on them. While Kuzuki couldn't ever be described as warm or even relaxed in John's company, there was at least something familiar in the way they spoke. It was while Kuzuki was discussing the mysterious fire nearly a decade ago that that they spotted the figure sprawled on the steps in front of them.

It was a woman, drenched by the rain, and dressed, oddly enough, in blue and purple robes. The hood of said robes had fallen away, revealing lavender hair framing lugubriously beautiful features. Oddly enough, her ears were pointed, giving her the air of an elf. Her breathing was ragged and laborious, and she was, at best, semi-conscious, and slipping fast.

John, after checking the forest and the steps they were climbing for any potential threats, dashed up to her as fast as he could manage in the rain. "Hey! Hey! Are you okay?!" he yelled. His practised eye looked over the woman. No external injuries as far as he could tell.

Her eyes flickered open, revealing sapphire orbs, glistening with tears, peering at him, unfocused, tired, but alive. "…Who…are…" Her eyes flickered shut.

John grimaced. Her time was running out, and they needed to get her out of the elements fast. He looked at Kuzuki, who said, "Come with me. The head priest at Ryuudou holds me in high regard. We'll get their help."

With that, the two assassins brought the mysterious woman up to the temple, little knowing that this event would change John Wick's life. Though whether it was for better or for worse remained to be seen…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, John's met Medea. And it looks like he will be a Master in the upcoming Grail War. But will he be friend or foe to the Emiyas?**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	9. Expiation Chapter 1 (Revised)

**I have to admit, I had second thoughts about the original version of Expiation, as I thought it allowed for less character conflict than I wanted to. So, this version of the story will have, at least initially, John Wick and Medea opposing Shirou and Illya (who have been told by Kiritsugu about Angra Mainyu). John thinks that Kiritsugu is dead, and doesn't know that Illya (he didn't know about Shirou) didn't move away from Kiritsugu's home. The first part of the chapter will be familiar, but the rest is different...  
**

* * *

 _ **EXPIATION (REVISED)**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **BABA YAGA AND THE WITCH OF BETRAYAL**

In an office, a grizzled old man is handed a telephone by a nervous lackey. A little impatiently, he answers it. "Yes?" he asks curtly and imperiously in his native Japanese, and he's a little surprised to hear the reply in English.

" _Raiga, my dear fellow, how are you?_ "

Raiga Fujimura winced. It had been a somewhat trying day, and he had just been short to one of the most powerful men in the world, even if he wasn't publicly acknowledged as such. In English, he replied, "Physically, I'm as well as can be expected, Winston. However, you must forgive my lack of propriety earlier. I have just had to make an example of a couple of fools trying to muscle in on my turf, and it has been a rather sordid chore."

There was a soft chuckle on the other end. " _I'm sorry to hear that, old friend. Sadly, I have some news that might not help matters. I rang you as a courtesy. John Wick is coming to Fuyuki._ "

At that, Raiga felt a chill come over his heart. "I sincerely hope this is not some poor attempt at humour, Winston. I had thought that Baba Yaga had been retired for some time."

" _And you thought correctly, old friend. Unfortunately, Jonathan ran afoul of a rather severe case of bad luck. His wife died of a terminal illness, and left Jonathan a dog to keep him company. Unfortunately, the son of Viggo Tarasov noticed Jonathan's car, and, not knowing who Jonathan was, tried to procure it, first by money, and then, by breaking into his house, brutalising Jonathan, and murdering his dog._ "

Raiga hissed quietly. "…I am guessing that it did not end well for the Tarasov boy."

" _Nor for Viggo himself. They are both dead, and their organisation is in tatters. So too is Marcus, by Viggo's hand. And Miss Perkins…well, she foolishly flouted the Continental's rules of no business on the premises by attempting to kill Jonathan, and paid for it with the customary price._ "

Which meant she was stupid enough to try and assassinate someone on the Continental's premises, and was executed for her troubles. Raiga certainly knew of both assassins. And of the organisation they were part of.

The Continental was the cover for a worldwide network of criminals, mostly those specialising in assassination. They were represented by a franchise of hotels, which could be used as a safehouse for underworld figures (anyone who tried to assassinate someone on the premises of a Continental hotel were executed or else had a contract put out on them), as well as providing resources either on the premises, or else giving contacts. Raiga certainly had his dealings with them, and knew many of the more infamous members, like John Wick, aka Baba Yaga.

Wick had become infamous for many reasons, but what truly cemented his legend was when he retired. He had been working for Viggo Tarasov, a top Russian mob boss, and when Wick wished to retire, Viggo gave him a task widely acknowledged as 'impossible'. The assassinations he achieved were done in a single night, something that made many look upon Wick with awe. Indeed, it was a dark joke that, while named for the witch that was a boogeyman in Russian folklore, he was the one you sent to kill the boogeyman.

Eventually, he said, "So why is John Wick coming here?"

" _After Jonathan decimated Viggo's organisation, I suggested he get out of town for some time. I'm glad that fool Santino D'Antonio got himself killed trying to overthrow his sister in a coup d'etat. I thought he might have tried to hire Jonathan. As it is, Jonathan wants another chance to begin anew._ _Jonathan only wants a quiet life, Raiga. If we're lucky, Fuyuki will give him what New York couldn't, what happened nine years ago aside._ "

"The Fuyuki Fire…yes, I remember it. Emiya's adoptive son, the one my granddaughter mooches off, he was the only survivor. Shirou…yes, his name is Shirou…"

* * *

At the foot of the stairs leading up to Ryuudou Temple, a man stood, looking up the stairs. Dark hair framed handsome, if lugubrious features of uncertain lineage. Certainly, he could have passed for part-Japanese, and he spoke it like a native, amongst many other languages. His dark suit was immaculate.

Where does one go when one wants to expiate one's sins? John Wick decided, at the very least, to visit Ryuudou Temple. While he had no intention of staying there for long in Fuyuki, he wanted to visit there at least briefly. He wasn't sure whether there was a God, and he certainly didn't quite share Viggo's conviction that God stole Helen away as punishment for John's manifold sins.

There was a little more to this visit than that. Winston, while recommending Fuyuki as a place for John to stay, mentioned that another retired assassin was here, even after the death of Kiritsugu Emiya. John had met Emiya a few times, the last time being when John had done him a favour for shortly before the man's death: rescuing his daughter from her family. And decimating most of them in the process, but they were Magi, and particularly cold-hearted ones at that.

John was aware of Magi. Indeed, he was a Magus himself, albeit not a competent one. He only really had the knack for Structural Analysis and Reinforcement, and rarely used it in his line of work. But he had managed to break through the Bounded Fields of the Einzbern Castle.

Anyway, in any case, John wanted to meet the man Winston mentioned, if only to avoid causing trouble later. Soichirou Kuzuki had once worked for an organisation loosely affiliated to the Continental, but eventually quit. He was particularly noted for his mastery of the 'Snake' form of assassination martial arts. Kuzuki was said to reside at Ryuudou Temple, so Winston said, and John wished to pay his respects to his fellow retired assassin.

As it happened, he met his fellow assassin, just as it began to cloud over, at the foot to the steps to Ryuudou Temple. Judging by the way Kuzuki's eyes narrowed, he recognised John, despite the two not having met. "Wick," the man said.

"Kuzuki," John replied.

Kuzuki scrutinised him. John did the same, noting Kuzuki to be a tall, thin, ascetic-looking man with a strict expression. There was a strange emptiness to the man that had John feeling a chill, and he was cursing even thinking of approaching the man. "Why has the Baba Yaga come to Fuyuki? I had thought you retired after that job you did for the Russians in New York," Kuzuki observed, his voice deep and calm.

"I still am, but I brought down some heat on me in New York. The Continental suggested a relocation."

Kuzuki nodded. "You are not here to work, then?"

"No. Winston told me about you, and I just wanted to come to make sure that, if we met each other, there wouldn't be any misunderstandings."

"Very well," Kuzuki said. "But I too am retired from our world. I work as a teacher."

"Well, would you like to discuss life here in Fuyuki, as well as people I should watch out for?"

After a moment, Kuzuki nodded.

* * *

They discussed things as they went up the steps, rain pelting down on them. While Kuzuki couldn't ever be described as warm or even relaxed in John's company, there was at least something familiar in the way they spoke. It was while Kuzuki was discussing the mysterious fire nearly a decade ago that that they spotted the figure sprawled on the steps in front of them.

It was a woman, drenched by the rain, and dressed, oddly enough, in blue and purple robes. The hood of said robes had fallen away, revealing lavender hair framing lugubriously beautiful features. Oddly enough, her ears were pointed, giving her the air of an elf. Her breathing was ragged and laborious, and she was, at best, semi-conscious, and slipping fast.

John, after checking the forest and the steps they were climbing for any potential threats, dashed up to her as fast as he could manage in the rain. "Hey! Hey! Are you okay?!" he yelled. His practised eye looked over the woman. No external injuries as far as he could tell.

Her eyes flickered open, revealing sapphire orbs, glistening with tears, peering at him, unfocused, tired, but alive. "…Who…are…" Her eyes flickered shut.

John grimaced. Her time was running out, and they needed to get her out of the elements fast. He looked at Kuzuki, who said, "Come with me. The head priest at Ryuudou holds me in high regard. We'll get their help."

* * *

Once they were at the temple, Kuzuki, after explaining the situation to the monks, brought the woman to his room. As they entered, the woman seemed to rally slightly, her eyes flickering open once more. She looked at them curiously, albeit with some wariness, and her expression was still haggard. "…Where am I?" she asked.

"Ryuudou Temple," Kuzuki said simply. "I live here with the permission of the monks here. I am Soichirou Kuzuki. This is John Wick."

"We found you collapsed on the stairs," John explained. "We brought you here. What happened to you?"

The woman looked at them both, as if deciding whether to take them into her confidence. "I doubt you would believe me if I told you."

"You weren't assaulted or anything?" John asked.

"Not sexually, no," the woman said. After a moment, she asked, "…Would the name 'Caster' mean anything to you?"

"Should it?" Kuzuki asked, while John frowned. Why did that sound familiar?

"I see. Well, you two have my gratitude." She made to stand, only to nearly topple back to the floor. John caught her almost instantly.

"You can't leave in your condition," John said quietly.

The woman seemed to realise this, what looked like self-reproach on her face. "…Very well. I will rest here, for now…"

* * *

The two men looked after the woman, who only called herself 'Caster', overnight. While her mental acuity seemed to get better, physically, she seemed to get worse. By the next morning, with it still raining, she seemed to lack energy, her skin becoming cold and clammy. When she realised this, she closed her eyes. "I can't tarry any longer," she said, resignedly, even as she ate some soup provided by Kuzuki.

"What do you mean?" John asked, before Caster dropped a bombshell.

"…What do you know about magecraft?" Caster asked in her turn.

"Do you mean magic?" Kuzuki asked. "I know nothing about it. I didn't think it existed."

"…I am a Magus," John admitted quietly, shooting Kuzuki a look that he would explain later.

Caster looked at him sharply. "Then, do you know about the Holy Grail War?"

"…I've heard rumours. Nothing substantial."

"Very well. I need to be brief, for my time in this world is now limited. I am what is known as a Servant, a familiar summoned by a Magus, derived from a Heroic Spirit summoned from the Throne of Heroes by the Grail. Seven Masters summon seven Servants to fight for the Holy Grail. When six of the Servants have been slain, the Grail is primed to grant a wish apiece to the remaining Servant and their Master," Caster explained.

"What happened to your original Master?" John asked.

Caster scoffed bitterly. "He tried to kill me, so I killed him, in self-defence. However, as I need a mana source to remain in this world…I will soon disperse, my essence returning to the Grail. And I do not wish for that to happen. While I do not enjoy being reduced to pleas, Mr Wick, I ask you, no, I _beseech_ you, as one Magus to another, to become my Master." She bowed low in supplication.

John's first instinct was to reject the offer out of hand. He had come here to get away from his old life, from the fallout from the war he had waged against Viggo Tarasov's organisation. He hadn't come here to get enmeshed in another war, a war between Magi. And Caster had just admitted that she had killed her former Master.

And yet, it was tempting. He was wary of the Grail, seeing as it could be a monkey's paw of some sort, but still… "Caster, if you know so much about the Grail, answer me this: can it be used to bring the dead back to life? Beyond this Heroic Spirit thing?"

Caster nodded. "From what knowledge the Grail has given me, that is well within its capabilities. It was an attempt by the von Einzbern family to regain the True Magic known as Heaven's Feel, and reviving the dead is part of it."

The von Einzbern family…the very family he had devastated while helping Kiritsugu Emiya get his daughter back. And if it could be used to bring the dead back to life…then maybe he could use it for Helen and Daisy, revive them in normal bodies.

John debated with himself for a time, but in truth, he had already made the decision. "All right," he said, a little reluctantly. "I'll be your Master…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, John's met Medea. And it looks like he will be a Master in the upcoming Grail War. But will he be friend or foe to the Emiyas?**

 **People who read the original version of the first chapter in _Zelretch's Collection of Alternates_ will doubtless see the differences, especially how I cut out the meeting with Shirou and Illya. This was deliberate: I want there to be some initial conflict between John and the Emiyas, until they finally come together.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	10. Non Omnis Moriar Chapter 1

**So, here we are again. This is another story inspired by one of sakurademonalchemist's stories, a story she only published the first chapter to in her** ** _Short Story Drabbles_** **. While it doesn't actually start in the same way, nor will it continue as such, it does take one key cue: Shirou Emiya from** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **is Harry Potter. In her story,** ** _Rebirth of Phoenix_** **, Harry managed to arrange with the Goblins (who only agreed because they hoped it would kill him) to de-age himself and go back in time to start a new life. In my story, Harry is reincarnated as Shirou (along with other Potterverse characters: I think some people will be surprised at who I made for Sakura), but as it had similar principles, I thought I'd acknowledge my inspiration.**

 **Incidentally, if you want to read the sole chapter of _Rebirth of Phoenix_ , here it is:**

 **s/9495509/42/Short-Story-Drabbles**

 **I've been meaning to do a Harry/Sakura story for some time, and this, along with additional pairings (Arturia is a given, and Medusa another), is my answer to that. Also, because some of Harry's personality has bled through into Shirou, Shirou** ** _will_** **be pretty OOC in this story. He still has his 'saving people thing' shared between them, but he's also much more cynical and less willing to save everybody, regardless of who they are. Plus, as we will detail later in the story, Shirou/Harry has managed to not only get most of the full story of the Fourth Grail War from Kiritsugu, but he's also managed to meet Illya long before the Fifth Grail War, though the von Einzberns don't believe him about Angra Mainyu.**

 **Incidentally, I'm cross-posting this in** ** _The Cauldron_** **.**

* * *

 _ **NON OMNIS MORIAR**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **A NEW LIFE**

Shirou sighed as he closed up the archery club. It might've taken him longer than that, had he not known a few tricks. Tricks he had to be careful of using, in case it triggered that Bounded Field he sensed earlier. Still, it gave him time to actually investigate the Bounded Field…as he had his suspicions about what had caused it.

Sneaking through the school was easy. He had something of a gift for stealth, and that was without going into his abilities. Abilities only two other people knew about, as far as he knew: his best friend, Sakura Matou, and his sister. The only other person to know, his adoptive father, was dead…and he had warned Shirou not to let anyone else know about said abilities, especially another Magus. Kiritsugu Emiya may have given up the career of an assassin by the time he adopted Shirou, but he certainly imbued a similar sense of reasonable paranoia. For some reason, the words 'constant vigilance' always came to mind around his father.

There were frequent odd flashes of half-remembered phrases and names in Shirou's mind. He had nightmares and dreams that seemed more like memories. Though they couldn't have been memories: Shirou may have lost his in the Fuyuki Fire, but he was older in those dreams, and had black hair and green eyes in them, not to mention British. So, given that he was Japanese, had red hair (unusual for a Japanese), and hazel eyes, it can't have been him…though it meant his grades in English classes were exemplary (not that Taiga would have it any other way).

He eventually reached the roof, and found what he was looking for fairly quickly. A magic circle was inscribed on the roof, and he scowled. He couldn't tell what it was for, but he was fairly sure it wasn't anything good.

The door to the roof opened, and Shirou looked up to find a fairly unwelcome face approaching. "You? What are you doing here?" the girl with the dark hair done up in twin ponytails demanded.

"Admiring someone else's handiwork. I hope this isn't yours, _Tohsaka_ ," Shirou said, a little more coldly than he intended. But he didn't like Rin Tohsaka for a number of reasons, not least of which that she didn't even try to reach out to her sister, beyond token efforts, and even if she didn't know what had happened to Sakura, it still felt like a betrayal to Shirou. That, and his father told him to be wary of her until he knew better: her father was a Magus, after all, and she may have inherited his elitist attitudes. Not to mention her guardian and mentor, Kirei Kotomine.

That, and Rin seemed to take umbrage to the fact that Shirou and Sakura were boyfriend and girlfriend. And that they were rumoured to be lovers. Rumour which was, oddly enough, true…though there were reasons behind that beyond love and lust.

The dark-haired girl seemed shocked and taken aback by Shirou's words, before a scowl came over her face. "And what do you mean by that?" she blustered.

"This is a Magus' handiwork," Shirou said, tapping the magic circle. "Someone set this up here. And I only know of four other Magi who live here off the top of my head…though that number's rising."

Rin, after a moment, decided to restrain her temper, and strode over to the magic circle. "I came here to investigate this myself. Still, I can't believe this. Another Magus…living here all this time. And who are the other three?"

"Sakura and that thing she has to call a grandfather of hers, along with that priest you're stuck with as a guardian and mentor," Shirou said.

"I see," Rin said, before blinking. "Thing?"

"Why should I tell you? You don't take much interest in Sakura," Shirou retorted. "If you did, you'd have helped her years ago. Your Uncle Kariya at least tried."

"How dare you?!" Rin snapped.

"I do dare. Now, do you know anything about this, Little Miss Magus?"

Rin growled, before she glared at the magic circle. "No, I don't recognise it. It's not my handiwork, and the inscriptions are in a language I'm not familiar with."

Shirou frowned. "Erase it?"

"Part of it," Rin said. "Whatever it is, it gives me the creeps, and while I may not be able to erase it all, I might be able to do enough to scupper the plans of whoever placed it here…"

"Now, where's the fun in that?"

The Irish drawl came from above, a man neither Shirou nor Rin noticed perched in the watertank on the roof. Shirou cursed himself for being more focused on Rin in his annoyance with her, or else he might have noticed earlier. The man was tall, lanky, dressed in a blue bodysuit. He had long blue hair tied in a ponytail, a handsome, sardonic face with red eyes, and slitted pupils. Most concerning, however, was the rather long, red spear he had in his hands. Though the vein-like markings had Shirou wondering…

"Are you compensating for something with that spear?"

Rin looked aghast at him, while the Irish man stared at him, before he laughed a barking laugh. "Oh, you know, while I've heard that one more than a few times in my lifetime, it's actually still quite funny. Now, given your conversations, I'm guessin' that you two are Junior Magi, right? Shouldn't you two kiddos be in bed?"

"Oh, you know, I was looking to be like Shinichi Kudo(1)," Shirou snarked, even as he thought of ways to get out of this. "Columbo(2) here was working the same case."

Rin, seeking to regain her authority on the matter, demanded, "Did you do this?"

"As if. It's Magi who do the dirty tricks, lass. Whereas me, well, I'm here to fight. I mean, surely you kids have heard of Servants?"

Shirou paled. It was a possibility he had considered since seeing the Irish man, especially after he met his sister the other night…but now he knew for certain… "Crap. Rin, please tell me you've summoned one by now and he or she can cover our retreat."

"Oh, so _now_ we're on a first-name basis when we're threatened with being killed!" Rin snapped.

"I can get away just fine! But I don't know about you," Shirou said. "Have you?"

"Yes!"

The Irish man, whom Shirou was willing to bet was a Lancer (the big, penis-substitute spear was a fairly big clue), laughed. "You think you can get away from me, boyo?"

"Not normally," spoke a voice, seemingly out of thin air, before a man materialised next to Rin. "But I think I can buy them a little time. You sure you want to help a fellow Magus who might be your next enemy?" This last bit was addressed to Rin.

The man was tall, with tanned skin and snow white hair, dressed in black armour, with red trousers and a similarly-coloured item of clothing that was somewhere between a coat and a mantle. His features seemed oddly familiar to Shirou, though he couldn't understand why. His expression was stern, hard.

Rin scowled, or at least more than she was already, and said, "Be that as it may, we have a definite enemy in front of us. Buy us time until we can reach a better battlefield." She then looked at Shirou. "I hope you know Reinforcement, Emiya."

"And more," Shirou said. As they fled down the staircase and back into the school proper, Shirou used Reinforcement on his legs, and indeed the rest of his body, Rin doing the same. Their speed wasn't quite at Servant levels, but it was better than most.

They scrambled down the fire escape, before fleeing the school, just in time to find Lancer and Rin's Servant leaping down from the roof. They were soon joined in battle, and Shirou had to at least watch on in awe. Their fight was beyond human limits, at ridiculous speeds. Some of their blows sent shockwaves that blasted dust into the air.

"Merlin, I wish I had some popcorn," Shirou muttered. "Dad told me the stories, but…"

"Dad? So your name isn't a coincidence?" Rin demanded.

"If by that, you mean he was Kiritsugu Emiya, then no, it's not a coincidence. But why the hell is this starting up again so soon?" This last was spoken more quietly.

He'd known it was happening ever since he got the call from his big sister, and it had only been confirmed when he saw the markings on Sakura's hand…and on his own…a marking he had concealed with makeup. Sakura, to his knowledge, was yet to summon a Servant: they had agreed that they were going to collaborate during this Grail War, and they were going to do the summoning together if possible. His big sister was still on the fence: her family held considerable sway, and hadn't bought the warning he had given to them, courtesy of his father. But at least she wasn't going to kill him.

"You mean the Grail War?" Rin asked.

"Well, I wasn't talking about a Street Fighter tournament," Shirou snarked.

A chuckle came from Rin's Servant. "I like the cut of his jib," he said, as he deflected another blow from Lancer. Shirou frowned. While the man was using a pair of swords he had summoned through what was probably Projection, Shirou couldn't be sure that was a Saber. In fact, he hoped this man in red and black wasn't. Because that would prove problematic.

"I'm sure you do, Archer," Rin said acidly, answering that question.

"I'm glad one of us is amused," Lancer said with his own scowl. "But what kind of stupid bloody Archer fights with a pair of swords? Are you mockin' me?"

Archer merely smirked, ever-so-slightly, not quite confirming or denying the accusation.

"And are you gonna leave a witness around?" Lancer continued.

"Uh, actually, it's not against the rules for a non-Master to witness if they're a Magus," Shirou said.

Before Lancer could retort, there was a noise of chains clanking, and something like a nail or a dagger on a chain whipped out of the darkness, Lancer barely deflecting the blow. "Oh, what now?!" he snapped irritably.

Out of the darkness, a woman, inhumanly beautiful, with long purple hair and dressed in dark, somewhat fetishistic-looking black clothing, landed. Her eyes were covered by something like a rigid blindfold, only serving to make her look like something out of a BDSM wet dream. She wielded a pair of daggers that looked more like oversized nails chained together, the same thing that had attacked Lancer. "I am here to help this one," she said, her voice a lyrical hiss, indicating Shirou.

"By all means, bring it on! I'm all up for a threeway, even with another guy!" Lancer said, baring fang-like canines in a feral grin. Then, he suddenly scowled. "Oh, dammit! Stupid bloody… _tch_. Well, today's your lucky day. My Master doesn't want me to fight more than one person at a time, as much as I want to. Be seeing you!" And with that, he Astralized.

"…That just happened," Shirou muttered.

The purple-haired Servant turned to look at him, insomuch as she could do so without her eyes visible, and said, " _My Master, Sakura, sent me. She is currently waiting at your house._ "

Now, what was surprising about what she said was what she said it in. Shirou had been surprised one day when his father took him to the zoo, and Shirou had struck up a conversation with some of the snakes in the reptile house. There was only one other person Shirou had entrusted with that knowledge…and this Servant had spoken in this snake language, claiming to have been sent by this person.

" _She did?_ " Shirou replied, startled.

" _Yes. Her grandfather forced her to summon me, and nearly handed me to the one called…Shinji._ "

That worm…the one who had managed to trick the other Archery Club members into having Shirou clean the Archery Club instead of him. And Shirou knew that little bit of selfish skiving was nothing compared to what he had been doing to his sister. Adoptive sister, yes, but thanks to what Zouken Matou did to Sakura, she was pretty much a Matou. Shirou was on the verge of murdering the blue-haired little fuck…if he could get away with it.

" _She told me I was to bring you to the ritual circle in your Workshop to summon your Servant_ ," the Servant said. " _My Master had something happen to her during my summoning._ "

Shirou pulled out his phone. In all the excitement, he hadn't noticed it vibrating. An SMS showed, with it saying, _Sent Rider to you. Need you to summon your Servant. ISSIAUTNG_.

That last bit stood for _I Solemnly Swear I Am Up To No Good_. It was a password of sorts, confirming trustworthiness, something that came from his dreams, and something he shared with Sakura. " _Are you Rider?_ " Shirou asked, sending back 'MM' as an acknowledgement.

" _I am._ "

"What the hell are you two hissing about? You sound like a pit of snakes!" Rin snapped.

"It's Parseltongue, girl," Rider said in Japanese. "The language of serpents. Do you wish to go now?"

This last was directed at Shirou, who nodded. "Hey, wait!" Rin said. "You're going to go with this Servant? She could kill you!"

"So could yours. Is he?"

"Depends on whether my Master orders it," Archer said with a shrug.

Rin, after a moment, huffed. "Fine then. But if you know about the Grail War, and you become a Master, know that we're enemies!"

 _Oh, I knew that already, Tohsaka_ , Shirou thought. _I'm not going to kill you if I can help it, but even so, you'd be my enemy if you know what I had in mind for the Grail. And I'm sure as hell not going to go up to meet Kotomine. Dad may not have said much about him, but he said enough_.

Out loud, he said to Rider, "Let's go."

The purple-haired woman nodded, before picking him up, and then leaping away, much to his astonishment…

* * *

Archer, aka the Counter Guardian EMIYA, watched him go. He was confused, admittedly...but something in him was heartened. This version of him was focused on helping Sakura, and while he wasn't enamoured with Rin, he also at least wanted to help her. But there was something about this version of him that seemed less… _broken_. Less… _hollow_. More cynical, and yet…it felt better.

Though how he became a Parseltongue, he had no idea. He certainly didn't have that ability…

* * *

It was odd, travelling by Servant, especially being carried in a near-bridal position in a reversal of usual gender roles. Not that Shirou actually minded. "So," he said as they neared his house, "Sakura's told you what I intend to do?"

"Away from that… _thing_ she calls a grandfather, yes," Rider said. "I only hope that you are telling the truth…or at least that your father was."

They didn't talk the rest of the way, until Rider landed near the entrance to his house, and Shirou was put down. Sakura opened the door shortly before they reached it, and smiled. "Ha…I mean, Shirou."

Shirou frowned. Did she very nearly greet him with another name? There was something about the buxom girl with the violet hair that seemed…off. It was subtle, but it was there. "What's wrong?"

Sakura, after a moment, admitted, "Something happened when I was summoning Rider. Something changed in me. Zouken hasn't noticed it, or if he has, he didn't say anything. Shirou…I think the same thing will happen when you summon your Servant."

"What do you mean?" Shirou asked, worried.

"You know how you and I…we can use magic other than magecraft? And why we have those dreams?" she asked quietly. "I've found out why."

Yes, that was true. They had woken each other a couple of times at night, when they had shared the same bed, and had discussed having strangely similar dreams. And they had been able to use magic that was very different to magecraft.

"So, what is it?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. But…I summoned my Servant. It's about time you summoned yours."

A little uneasily, Shirou nodded, and went inside, hoping that he was still right, and Sakura wasn't going to betray him.

* * *

He was soon in front of the summoning circle, the one drawn up years ago, faded, but still useable. His father had, when Shirou had managed to winkle his past exploits out from him, had shown him this. And that had taken some pestering. Now, he was going to have to use this in earnest, despite his father claiming he would never have to. Sakura stood by, with Rider currently Astralized, to prevent his Servant from attacking.

After a moment, he began channelling mana into the circle, and began the ritual chant. " _Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world, that I shall defeat all evil in the world! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!_ "

And that's when it happened. Even as the circle dissolved into an actinic flare of light, he felt something within his mind burst, like a collapsing dam. And then…he _remembered_.

* * *

It hurt Sakura to see this happen to her beloved, as he clutched his head and emitted a strangled cry of pain. She was by his side in a flash as he sagged to his knees. And as the light faded away, she heard a regal voice ring out. "I ask of you, are you my Master?"

Sakura looked up, and beheld a strange apparition. It was a girl (or else a VERY androgynous boy), perhaps about their age, in her early twenties at most, with blonde hair framing regally beautiful features. Her green eyes, once set in a stern gaze, were now giving way to mild confusion. She was dressed in what looked like a blue armoured dress, complete with breastplate and gauntlets. Her bearing seemed older than her apparent age suggested. Her right hand was apparently clenched over little more than thin air, though ripples of air seemed to show around something she was holding.

"Your Master is feeling a little unwell," Sakura said, garnishing the truth a little. She held up Shirou's hand, showing the Command Seals.

The woman, after a moment, had her eyes flicker down to Sakura's own Command Seals. "Another Master aiding my own?" she asked, disbelief tinging her tone.

"Yes. Are you Saber?"

"Aye."

"Specifically…Arturia?"

Saber's eyes narrowed. "How could you possibly know such a thing?" she asked.

"It's a long story. The short version is, Shirou was adopted by your former Master. There are things we need to explain, but I'm allied with him."

Saber, or rather, Arturia, didn't seem convinced, but she didn't attack. And eventually, Shirou got to his feet. "Oh, Merlin, did anyone else get the number of the Hippogriff that ran me over?" He then looked at Sakura. "I see what you mean. You knew who I was, didn't you, Sakura?"

Sakura nodded. "I did. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, Harry."

"Just…call me Shirou, please. But…who were you?"

Sakura smiled sadly. "Well, this time, you've got red hair, Harry…I mean, Shirou. But I knew you would come for me…just like you did in the Chamber of Secrets."

His eyes widened with shock. "No way… _Ginny?_ "

Sakura nodded in acknowledgement. "After all this time…well, we're back together again."

Arturia, after a moment, cleared her throat slightly but pointedly. "My pardon for interrupting what appears to be a reunion of sorts, but I confess myself baffled. Especially as…Sakura, was it? She claimed you to be the adopted son of my former Master." Her green eyes, so much like those that Sakura had once adored in another life, narrowed at that.

"Kiritsugu Emiya, yes," Shirou said. "Look, it's a long story, and I know my dad…wasn't the best Master to you, to say the least. But please, promise to hear me out."

Eventually, Arturia said, "I shall listen."

"Good. Then let's go…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, that's why Shirou's acting OOC. He's Harry Potter's reincarnation…and Sakura is Ginny's.**

 **Now, having Shirou being Harry's reincarnation came about as a direct consequence of adapting, albeit loosely, sakurademonalchemist's story** ** _Rebirth of Phoenix_** **. Because Harry went through a lot, even without his memories (beyond some half-remembered dreams and nightmares), Shirou was still influenced by him. Shirou in this story is a fusion of the canon Shirou and a Harry who died during the Battle of Hogwarts, taking Voldemort with him, though this will be made clearer in the next chapter.**

 **As for Sakura, I've been meaning to do a Harry/Sakura story for some time. The poor girl gets a pretty raw deal in** ** _Fate/Zero_** **and** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **, and I try to rectify that. In** ** _Ex Umbra in Solem_** **and** ** _Light the Blue Touch Paper and Run Like Hell_** **, she gets rescued from the Matous by the protagonists during the events of** ** _Fate/Zero_** **(Harry in the first, and Loki in the second), while in** ** _Gorgon and Thanatos_** **, she is adopted out to Harry instead of Zouken. In** ** _Perils of Magical Investigative Journalism_** **, Harry and Luna rescue her during the events of** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **.**

 **So, why have her as the reincarnation of Ginny? Well, a few reasons. I felt uncomfortable about pairing a Shirou who had enough memories to effectively have the lifetime of an adult being paired with someone who still was only sixteen or thereabouts, so I decided to make her a reincarnation to make up for that. Another reason I chose Ginny was, well, Hermione didn't seem to suit Sakura. Luna might, at a stretch. But then, considering how enamoured Sakura is with Shirou, being a bit fangirly from my impression of** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **, well, I thought of Ginny. And if you think Sakura is nothing like Ginny, well, keep in mind that this is a Ginny who had to deal with being abandoned by a supposedly loving family and subjected to rape worms for a decade. Don't worry, we'll get to see her fire now that she has re-awakened her memories. Plus, I haven't done a Harry/Ginny pairing in ANY of my stories, save for a one-shot called** ** _HoneyMoon_** **. Harry/Ginny, as it's a canon pairing, is somewhat boring. This, I hope, adds a bit of spice to the mix.**

 **This is not a Ginny-bashing fic, either. This Ginny has gone through hell…and come out stronger for it. Okay, she is still somewhat broken, thanks to the Matous…but she's going to be Harry's most stalwart defender.**

 **And if you think this is going to be a Rin-bashing fic…well, it might be, if only mildly so. I don't like Rin, though that's probably because I'm not fond of** ** _tsunderes_** **. That, and, well, the distance she keeps from her sister, all for the sake of appearances, even when it's killing them both inside. She's certainly not part of the harem…though if you see the pairings of this story, Arturia and Medusa are.**

 **Oh, and yes, there will be a few other reincarnations.**

 **1\. Aka the protagonist from** ** _Detective Conan_** **, or** ** _Case Closed_** **if you prefer.**

 **2\. Aka the protagonist from** ** _Columbo_** **, as you should know. By basically comparing her to a shabby man in a mac, Shirou's having a jab at Rin's expense.**


	11. Non Omnis Moriar Chapter 2

**Well, here's the next chapter of** ** _Non Omnis Moriar_** **.**

* * *

 _ **NON OMNIS MORIAR**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **(RE)INCARNATIONS**

Even now, the last moments of that life were something of a blur. He only had impressions of his last hours of life as Harry Potter. Of seeing Ginny, raped and murdered, her mutilated body left in the Great Hall as a warning to everyone who would defy Voldemort. Of learning the truth about his Horcrux. Of making a suicidal attack against Voldemort…by tapping into every last drop of his magic…with explosive results. When he arrived at Kings Cross Station, or at least a limbo version of it, he was satisfied to see the glass-lined crater that remained. Of the argument he had with Dumbledore's shade, before deciding to get on the next train…

…And now, here he was, sandwiched between three formerly dead girls. Two of them Servants, the spirits of heroes from myth and legend, aka Heroic Spirits, summoned into new bodies. One of them was none other than THE King Arthur…who was a girl, in _this_ universe at least.

While he had been Harry Potter in that past life, he still thought of himself as Shirou Emiya. It was ironic that his adoptive father treated him far better than the Dursleys did…though he felt guilty about that when he thought of Ginny, who had been raised by a loving family in one life…only to be discarded by another in this one. And then subjected to a decade of horror.

The quartet were seated around the table in the dining room. Eventually, Arturia seemed to tire of waiting, and asked, "Master, I would like to hear your story."

"Firstly, Arturia, please call me Shirou. This is my girlfriend, Sakura Matou. And this is Rider. Who is…?"

Rider shot Sakura a look, only for the violet-haired girl to nod. "She's our ally, Rider."

"Very well. I am Medusa."

Arturia stared at the Rider Servant, as did Shirou…who then remarked, "Huh. Well, you're not what I had in mind when I thought Medusa…though that explains the blindfold and the Parseltongue. Geez, what's with all the female Servants being as good looking as Sakura is?"

Both Arturia and Medusa choked slightly at the assessment, while Sakura blushed a little, smiling softly at his praise. Shirou knew that the girl had self-esteem issues. Well, more of a subscription, really, but who could blame her? She had been adopted out of her birth family, with her mother and sister barely protesting, she had been infested with Crest Worms since the age of six (and given that they effectively raped females, that was horrific beyond belief: Shirou wasn't sure how she survived through that even remotely sane), and was raped by her brother.

When Shirou had found out a few months ago, he was furious, but Sakura didn't want to get the police involved, for practical reasons: Zouken would simply erase their memories and arrange for any paperwork to simply disappear…before punishing Sakura. And there was a method to Zouken's vile orders other than psychological abuse: the Crest Worms needed to be subdued by carnal activity, lest they ruin Sakura's body in their hunger. So, as much as it stuck in Shirou's craw to do so, he made a deal with the decrepit old Magus: he would take care of Sakura in the same manner, only with her consent.

Sakura had been astonished: she never thought that Shirou would ever want her in her condition. But after considerable discussion, they agreed to the arrangement. And, if anything, Sakura and Shirou were happy that their friendship, which had been growing already for quite some time, had grown even more. In fact, the only one really unhappy with the relationship was Shinji, but given that he only wanted his little toy to abuse and play with. Zouken had warned Shirou, though, that if Shinji came to any substantial harm, there would be consequences.

Pranks, however, were perfectly fine, even if they led to an occasional broken bone.

Shirou wasn't going to let this state of affairs continue forever, though. One day, he intended to deal with Zouken for once and for all, along with Shinji. Once, when discussing what it meant to be a Hero of Justice with his father, Shirou wondered whether one could save everybody. Or more to the point, whether one should?

His father, that day, had warned Shirou against walking the path he once did. The path that led Kiritsugu Emiya to be feared and reviled as the Magus Killer. And Shirou knew he wouldn't. Kiritsugu would willingly, if reluctantly, kill thousands of innocents if it served the Greater Good…a phrase Shirou hated for some reason.

But people like Zouken and Shinji? Yeah, if he could ensure that Zouken could stay dead, Shirou would do it.

"Anyway, firstly, Arturia, I want to offer an apology on behalf of my father. I found out about what happened last time. And he had a suspicion that you would remember. He didn't think I would be pulled into another Grail War, but…he told me to tell you he was sorry, as much as he knew you wouldn't be happy about that."

Arturia's lips thinned, but she nodded. "Aye, I do remember your…father. Forgive me, Shirou, but I do not have kind words to say about him, save for the devotion he showed his wife and child. I accept that your apology on his behalf is sincere, but I would rather not talk of him."

"I'm sorry, but we have to," Shirou said. "Did you ever wonder why he ordered you to destroy the Grail?"

Arturia blinked in shock. It clearly didn't occur to the Saber Servant that there might actually be a reason. "No. But…"

"There was a reason. I know you may not believe me, but I think he was telling the truth, as much as he could. He told me the Grail was contaminated, that any wish made on it would only cause a catastrophe. He said something about meeting his wife, Irisviel, in the Grail. Only, she wasn't. She called herself Angra Mainyu, and tried to tempt him into ending the world, with only Irisviel and Illyasviel still alive. He rejected the wish, and she cursed him. He died five years ago, five years after the last Grail War."

Arturia blinked in shock again. "Only a decade has passed since the previous Grail War? But then…"

"Yeah, Sakura and I are still working out why too. The best theory we have is that the Grail being destroyed prematurely did something, and it only took a decade to recharge."

Arturia frowned in thought, before she said, "You say this…entity within the Grail called itself Angra Mainyu…but is that not a Zoroastrian deity, sometimes known as Ahriman? I thought those could not be summoned by the Grail as a Servant."

"Under certain circumstances, they can," Medusa said. "I myself am a fallen deity, of sorts, and demigods can also be summoned."

"Dad did some digging. Apparently the von Einzberns summoned an eighth class during the Third Holy Grail War, Avenger, and they summoned Angra Mainyu. He couldn't prove it, especially not to the satisfaction of those idiots in Clock Tower, never mind the von Einzberns. I had a hard enough time persuading them to let me meet my big sister instead of killing me." Shirou sighed. "Anyway, he thought he was saving the world by forcing you to destroy it. But Angra Mainyu was a sore loser. The Grail spewed out some stuff that pretty much set a good chunk of Fuyuki on fire. I was one of the survivors. Even now, I can't remember what my life was like before that fire…in this life, anyway."

"In _this_ life?" Medusa asked.

"Long story. Anyway, I was staggering through that fire, doing little more than surviving, before I pretty much, well, gave up. And then, he came along, looking for someone to save…and he found me. He looked so happy to have saved me, Arturia. That's how badly things had affected him. I only remembered my given name, Shirou. He saved my life, and brought me to a hospital. Eventually, he offered to adopt me. As my parents were missing, presumed dead in the fire…I accepted. My memories before the fire were pretty much burned away. As for how he saved me…well, there's a reason I was able to summon you, Arturia." With that, he gently removed from his body a familiar wedge of gold, with intricate designs on it.

Arturia stared at it in wonder and nostalgia. "Avalon…"

"Yes. Excalibur's sheathe," Shirou said. "I have you to thank for saving my life Arturia, as much as Dad." He replaced it.

"I see," Arturia said. After some time, she said, "While I cannot accept all of your story on face value, especially as the one supplying the information through you did not see fit to trust my judgement, I am considering it regardless. Though if it is true…then why summon me again, if it is to destroy the Grail, and with it, my wish anew?"

"Arturia…you are a knight, right? Would you wish to leave a great evil unvanquished?" Shirou asked simply. He didn't want to manipulate her…or at least do so the way Dumbledore did in his old life.

She looked up at him sharply. Then, she nodded. "Very well. While I would wish to find out more myself, I concede your point."

"Hey, don't worry. I'm not going to treat you like Dad did. He told me doing so…he regretted it until the day he died. And I'm not going to use a Command Seal unless absolutely necessary," Shirou said, holding up his hand, showing said Command Seals. "Merlin, they're like having an instant Imperius, aren't they?" he muttered, more to himself. Shaking his head to get rid of that disturbing thought, he then said, "There's also one thing you should know in confidence, Arturia…and I have to ask, how do you feel? Is the mana supply good?"

Arturia seemed surprised by the question, before she nodded. "It is. Indeed, it feels better than it did with…your father."

"The same goes for me," Medusa said. "I was surprised at the reserves being given to me by Sakura. Highly unusual for Magi."

"That's because, well, we're not just Magi," Shirou said. "Sakura is a gifted Magus for her age, but me…well, thanks to being an Incarnation with my element and origin being Sword, my magecraft tends to go awry unless I'm using Structural Analysis, Projection, or Reinforcement." With that, he concentrated, and Projected a copy of Medusa's weapon. "Of course, this is just a crude copy, just made from looking at it…but if I used Structural Analysis on it first, I could, potentially, make a perfect copy. Sakura and I even think I might be, over time, able to copy Noble Phantasms, though the few times I tried with Avalon…let's just say that I was lucky to just have a splitting headache at the end of it."

"We think that was partly because Avalon was created by the Fae," Sakura said.

Arturia was looking on in astonishment, perhaps even awe. "A highly-specialised Incarnation…and potentially capable of copying Noble Phantasms. If you were ever a Heroic Spirit, you would be a formidable opponent…"

* * *

EMIYA sneezed, and frowned. "I thought Servants couldn't catch diseases," Rin asked snidely. "Or is someone talking about you behind your back?"

"Probably. I'm a Heroic Spirit after all, a lot of people would talk about me…"

* * *

"But it also means Shirou cannot learn other magecraft," Sakura said. "However, other magic is another matter."

"Other…magic?" Arturia asked.

Shirou smiled impishly, before waving a hand. To Arturia's astonishment, glasses emerged from the cupboards of the nearby kitchen, filled themselves with water from the sink, and then placed themselves on the table in front of them. Arturia stared. "…Merlin used to do such things as parlour tricks," she murmured finally. "But I did not think modern Magi would dare use their magic for something so trivial, even if that was possible."

"That's because it's not magecraft," Sakura said. "It's closer to True Magic, or at least magic as used in the Age of the Gods. It can't emulate the known True Magics, like Kaleidoscope or Heaven's Feel, but unlike magecraft, it is less affected by the World. Not to mention that it seems to be based more on a magical core rather than Magic Circuits. It seems less…abhorrent to Gaia."

Arturia considered this. Eventually, she said, "Regardless of the truth of your words, you seem like a more than competent Master, Shirou. I sincerely hope that our partnership is on much better terms than the one I had with your father. Do you know any healing magic?"

"A little. If things look dicey before a battle, I'll give Avalon back to you. That'd probably be better. Sakura knows healing magic too, of the magecraft variety."

"I see." Arturia's eyes flickered over to Sakura, and nodded. "Very well. Do either of you have intelligence on enemy Servants?"

Sakura looked over to Shirou. "I encountered two tonight, not counting those in this room. While I was investigating a possible Bounded Field on the roof, Rin Tohsaka showed up with an Archer Servant. Tanned skin, white hair…scarily skilled at using two short swords he created through Projection. We were accosted by a Lancer Servant. He had blue hair, red eyes, and wielded a single, red spear. Had an Irish accent too."

"It could not have been Diarmuid of the Love Spot," Arturia mused. "He did not match the description, and I fought him myself in the prior Grail War. There are a number of Irish spearmen who could have become Lancers." Her face fell at what was presumably an unhappy memory. Shirou remembered that his father alluded to doing something cruel to the Master of Lancer, Lord El-Melloi, something Arturia had objected to.

"The Lancer seemed excited by fighting more than one opponent," Medusa supplied. "His Master recalled him, though."

"The Archer, he did not have blonde hair and golden armour?" Arturia asked. "I know how you described him, but the Archer of the previous Grail War…"

"No, it wasn't Gilgamesh. He didn't call me a mongrel or anything," Shirou said. "Also, I know for a fact that my big sister summoned a Berserker, and she was bragging that he was Heracles. I don't want to fight that walking embodiment of 'roid rage yet."

"Big…sister?"

"There's only two people Shirou calls 'big sister'. There's his guardian, Taiga Fujimura, and there's his adopted sister, Illyasviel von Einzbern," Sakura explained patiently. "He's talking about Illya."

"Illya…Kiritsugu and Irisviel's daughter," Arturia mused, her expression becoming mildly rueful. "She is a Master now too?"

"Yeah. I tried warning the von Einzberns about the Grail, but they didn't listen. Illya's a bit more willing, but she's still going to participate. Sakura and I are the only Masters set on destroying the Grail."

"Still, that means Caster and Assassin are unaccounted for as of yet, and those are ones you should be wary of," Arturia pointed out.

"Zouken told me that Caster was summoned some time ago, and Assassin not so long ago," Sakura said. "Which means the Holy Grail War has begun in earnest, more or less."

"If I may," Medusa began. Getting attention on her, she said, "The sigil at the school was my doing. Zouken Matou wished for me to prepare one of my Noble Phantasms, Blood Fort Andromeda, as a back-up plan. When activated, it would convert those present into mana for myself, at the cost of their lives. I should have mentioned this sooner. However, I altered the sigil. As it is my Noble Phantasm, I can change elements of it. It will no longer have a lethal or even harmful effect. My apologies for not speaking of this sooner."

Shirou looked at Medusa in a little irritation. Eventually, he said, "That's fine. But it's probably going to be erased by Tohsaka before long."

"It's not the only sigil at the school. All erasing that one will do is delay the time until I can activate my Noble Phantasm," Medusa confessed.

"Another thing to worry about is where the Grail will materialise," Shirou said. "Dad told me of the four most likely points…"

Arturia nodded. "He told me that information too. We are close to one point, there is one at the church of the Overseer, a third is at Tohsaka Manor, and the final one is at Ryuudou Temple."

"I will do reconnaissance of the temple," Medusa said. "If Astralized, I can make my way there swiftly, and then retreat if there is any sign of a Servant being present."

"Would you be able to do so tonight?" Sakura asked. "I trust Arturia to keep us both safe while you are gone."

Medusa nodded. "I will do so forthwith. I won't take any risks, Sakura. Goodbye." And with that, she faded from view.

Arturia seemed to relax slightly. "It seems yet again I face a Rider from Greece. Last time, it was Iskandar."

"AKA Alexander the Great," Shirou muttered. Louder, he said, "Arturia, you shouldn't have to face her at all. I trust Sakura, and she trusts me. And I trust your honour as the King of Knights. Dad may have disdained that honour, but I don't."

"And neither do I," Sakura said. "I remember…the Servant my Uncle Kariya summoned. Zouken told me later…it was Lancelot."

Arturia looked at her sharply. "Your uncle…he was the one who was Master of Berserker in the previous Grail War?"

Sakura nodded sadly. "He promised to rescue me. He…couldn't keep the promise. A part of me hated him for doing so. But…at least he tried. Until Shirou came along, nobody else did."

"My apologies," Arturia said sincerely. "It was a shock to find my own comrade as an enemy…indeed, perhaps it was the most profound shock I suffered during that Grail War. His desire to rescue you was a noble one, then."

"Sakura…was in a bad situation. She still is," Shirou explained. "She thinks of me as a knight in shining armour." He punctuated this statement with a sardonic chuckle. "I haven't quite rescued the fair maiden from the monster's den, but I'm working on it. Then again, he's more tenacious than Voldemort."

"But we will deal with him soon, my love," Sakura said, before yawning. "We'd better go to bed. We'll have to deal with some things in the morning…"

Arturia nodded, but Shirou knew she was a little at sea with this whole thing. He hoped he would be able to persuade her to help him destroy the Grail, not just for his father, and the mother he never got to meet, Irisviel, but for the sake of the world. Distantly, he heard a memory from another life, of a bushy-haired girl berating him for his 'saving people thing'. _Oh, Hermione, you're more right than you ever knew_ …

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Shirou and Sakura have explained things to Arturia, and Medusa's gone off to do some reconnaissance. What next, though?**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	12. Hadrian Kotomine Chapter 1

**Now, I'm posting this simultaneously in _The Cauldron_ and _Zelretch's Collection of Alternates_. Having started watching both the original Studio Deen adaptation of _Fate/Stay Night_ and the Ufotable adaptation of _Unlimited Blade Works_ , I feel confident enough to return to it. Now, I made an attempt at a Harry/Sakura story fairly recently, with Shirou and Sakura as reincarnations of Harry and Ginny respectively, but I decided to ditch that story (though I may yet do a Harry-reincarnated-as-Shirou story closer to its inspiration, sakurademonalchemist's abortive story Rebirth of Phoenix, with her permission of course) in favour of another one.**

 **I considered having Harry end up in the Nasuverse after the TWT or going on what I recently coined in correspondence with Gabriel Herrol as a '** **Veil-assisted transdimensional pratfall', but I eventually decided on a similar route to my _RWBY_ crossover _Under the Light of the Shattered Moon_ , so Harry ends up in the Nasuverse long before the Harry Potter books take place, and, shortly before _Fate/Stay Night_ takes place, ends up being kidnapped by the Goblet of Fire, and makes it back to the Nasuverse mere weeks before the Fifth Holy Grail War takes place. But how to do things? Thanks to Arawn D Draven, we already have a couple of stories where Harry is adopted by...*shudder*...the Matous. There's one or two where he's adopted by Kiritsugu or even Medea...but none, to my knowledge, where he was adopted by Kirei Kotomine.  
**

 **This idea actually came from two fics by Satire Swift, one a pure _Fate/Stay Night_ fic, the other a _Sekirei_ crossover in the vein of gabriel blessing's famous _In Flight_. These two fics, _Birth by Fire_ and _A Soul of Fire_ , had Shirou adopted by Kirei, and becoming a somewhat unconventional Executor...and he summons a VERY different Saber...namely the Nero one from _Fate/Extra_ or _Fate/Extella_ , depending. I have told Satire Swift about my intentions, and they're fine with it. In any case, Hadrian Kotomine is somewhat different to the Shirou Kotomine of Satire Swift's fics.**

* * *

 _ **HADRIAN KOTOMINE**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **SCARS WITHIN AND WITHOUT**

It had been something of a minor scandal within Fuyuki. The ward of a local Christian priest and the adopted granddaughter of an old family with obscure Russian roots had disappeared. While the official story was that they had disappeared, possibly kidnapped, tongues had wagged, especially considering how close they had been. Many believed that an elopement of sorts had occurred. It had been at a scandalously young age too: they were fifteen, coming on sixteen. And you heard the rumours about the Matou family.

But then, the pair came back. The story they gave was that they were kidnapped by a group of obsessed cultists, and that they had taken this long to escape. Given the bizarre activities that happened in and around Fuyuki, a group of crazed cultists, sadly, was not wholly out of the question, especially in light of the serial killer and terrorist attacks that plagued the city nearly a decade ago.

However, the true story was very different. Ridiculous, unbelievable, but true. Though only a few would learn of that truth. And those few would be drawn into another battle beyond their imagining…

* * *

"…And that's when Zelretch finally deigned to get off his arse and take us home," the dark-haired European teenager said. Burn scars ran down one side of his face, not enough to disfigure it to a massive degree, but enough to mar and mark it. Another, lightning bolt-like scar snaked its way from under his fringe. Emerald eyes glinted sardonically from behind glasses.

His audience was of one, a red-haired teenager with hazel eyes staring out incredulously from Japanese features. Oh, there was another present, a girl of the same age as the European teen (about 16), buxom for her age, with dark purple hair and blue eyes, her features gentle and beautiful but lugubrious, but she wasn't part of the audience. She was one of the storytellers. "Zelretch took you home?" he asked.

"Eventually. I think he was too busy coughing up half a lung from laughing so hard to get us home sooner," the dark-haired boy said with a shrug. "Damned troll vampire. Lord El-Melloi II had to hold me back from sodomising Zelretch with a Black Key while he was talking to Sakura."

"Wow, that's…that's unbelievable. And considering what you guys and Rin have told me about…it's less believable than this stuff you said about the Grail War. Still, I'm glad you two are safe, all the same," the redhead said.

"We're home now, Shirou," the girl said with a smile. "And I'm glad our friends were concerned about us. Rin was…very vocal about her displeasure of our disappearance. She was even more displeased when she realised my relationship with Hadrian is stronger. Did you manage to make progress with your friendship with her?"

"Not much, Sakura. The Holy Grail War's all she's talking about lately," Shirou said, rubbing his head ruefully. "Oh, she's nicer now, once she got over the shock of you two disappearing. But she's still hung up on the fact that Structural Analysis, Reinforcement, and Projection is all I can really do as far as magecraft is concerned."

"Yeah, she's always been hypercritical, especially of herself, though don't let her know. Only trained personnel can risk setting off the Tsundere Missile at close quarters," Hadrian smirked. Sakura tittered, and Shirou smiled. As much as they were friends with Rin Tohsaka (and in Sakura's case, they were sisters, though their bond had been partly severed by their father adopting Sakura out), Rin also had something of a mercurial and haughty demeanour that made her prime teasing material. "But Rin's right. The Grail War is starting fifty years too early." He looked at a red, tattoo-like marking on his hand ruefully. Sakura had one too. "It'll probably be a few weeks before it starts in earnest, but even so, it seems like what your dad did at the end of the last one did something. Sakura and I are definitely participating together, and Rin's doing so too. Just watch out for something similar, Shirou, just in case. Given that the Grail managed to recruit a serial killer as a Master last time, not to mention my guardian, it's probably got a perverse sense of humour."

Shirou sighed at Hadrian's assessment of his guardian. Admittedly, Kirei Kotomine had raised Hadrian, once Harry Potter, rather well. But Kirei had a stoic, cold demeanour that hid a sadistic streak, and while he never actually abused Hadrian, Hadrian was also under few illusions as to his guardian. If anything, he suspected worse.

Hadrian would be the first to admit that, like his guardian (despite assuming the man's surname, he'd never call Kirei father), he had become something of a twisted soul. Hadrian had even gained some small notoriety as the Heretic Executioner, the Church's answer to the Magus Killer. Ironically, Hadrian was little like the Magus Killer, at least as far as collateral damage was concerned. But he shared Kiritsugu Emiya's more mercenary inclinations, as well as a disdain towards orthodoxy: despite often being retained by the Church to deal with rogue Magi and Dead Apostles (vampires to the average person), he publicly claimed he was an agnostic, even a misotheist. He had even been hired by Clock Tower on occasion: one of his last missions before those damned wizards on the world he left behind was to retrieve artifacts that could be used as catalysts for the next Holy Grail War, as there were already indications it might be starting early.

His lack of any formal affiliation with the Church, in spite of being the ward of Kirei Kotomine, meant that he could potentially be a Master without any trouble. Clock Tower and the Church hadn't managed to close that little loophole yet after Kirei himself participated as the Master of Assassin, which was odd. Then again, Tokiomi Tohsaka was colluding with the Church, and Zelretch seemed to think it entertaining.

"You two are the talk of the school, though," Shirou said. "People still think you two eloped, got married in Las Vegas or something. And I know you two are closer. Rin calls me clueless, but I can tell."

Sakura blushed slightly. Hadrian knew that Shirou didn't need to know quite how close they got. Not that they needed to get that close, despite her circumstances. His magic, a different kind to that Magi normally had, had a calming effect on the Crest Worms that Sakura had implanted by that monster of a grandfather of hers, something that normally required sexual activity to enact (something Zouken and Shinji Matou exploited until Hadrian's magic changed matters). But, well, after he pulled Sakura out of a damned near-frozen lake and emotions were running high…

Shirou accepted their relationship. Sakura was a good friend, and Hadrian, for all his frequent snarkiness and snideness, was a good friend too. But Hadrian and Sakura knew that he was also somewhat protective when it came to Sakura. So he didn't need to know for now.

"Well, can we stay here for the night?" Hadrian asked. "I've had enough of dealing with Kirei's questions for a while, and Rin doesn't feel like having a sleepover. And Sakura…well, Shinji damn near dislocated her shoulder when we were at the school. He has this notion that she's his."

Shirou nodded. "Of course," he said. He had once been friends with Shinji…until he learned what the boy had done to his own adoptive sister. But he was always there to help Sakura and Hadrian.

"Thanks," Hadrian said.

* * *

He couldn't sleep that night. Hadrian Kotomine stared at the ceiling, Sakura in another room, while lying on a futon. He'd just escaped one deathtrap of a magical tournament, only to be roped into one that was even more lethal.

Hadrian Kotomine wasn't born in this world. On another world, he was born Harry Potter, to James Potter and Lily Evans. They were murdered by a wizarding terrorist, and Harry was sent to live with magic-hating relatives who took every opportunity to abuse him. Nowhere near as bad as poor Sakura had it, but still…it spoke volumes when Kirei Kotomine, a hollow man who had a hidden sadistic streak, was a better guardian than they were. While he showed no actual love towards Harry, he could show pride when Harry achieved things.

Hadrian thought back to when he came to this world. He had been locked in his cupboard, and had wanted to get out. And he was out, but in the middle of a raging inferno. He wandered, alone, burns along his body, until he stumbled across a pair of men. A dark-haired priest, and a naked blonde man with crimson eyes. Ironically, these two turned out to be his saviours, the blonde, calling himself Gilgamesh (when he wasn't declaring himself to be the King of Heroes), noting his magic…of a vastly different kind to this world.

It was ironic, really. Kirei Kotomine and Gilgamesh saved him, while Kirei's enemy, Kiritsugu Emiya, the Magus Killer, had saved Shirou's life. Unlike Shirou, Hadrian didn't lose his memories. But the dark fires of the aftermath of the Fourth Holy Grail War has scoured Shirou clean, a fiery palimpsest.

Hadrian had met Kiritsugu a few times before the infamous assassin passed away. Hadrian had become friends with Shirou, but had aroused suspicion from the Magus Killer. Not without reason: Kiritsugu and Kirei were on opposing sides of the Grail War, though their enmity was particularly strong. However, Kiritsugu soon became satisfied that Hadrian, while every bit as acid-tongued and ruthless as his guardian, was genuine in his desire for friendship.

Hadrian never got to know the man that well, at least personally, but if one thing defined the ex-Magus Killer, it was that he was filled with regrets. Hadrian found himself envying Shirou, for the infamous mercenary and assassin seemed like a better father than Kirei ever acted like. Hell, during his Executor training, Hadrian ended up meeting Kirei's biological daughter, Caren Hortensia. That had been…interesting, to say the least.

He'd started training not long after the Magus Killer died, at eleven years of age. By thirteen, he was, albeit unofficially, an active Executor, though he tended to stay around Fuyuki most of the time, having most of his more mundane schooling here. By fifteen, he had some infamy for his unorthodox nature and his iconoclastic attitude (he was known to have a friendship of sorts with Arcueid Brunested, a True Ancestor or ultra-powerful vampire descended from the original vampire, Crimson Moon Brunested, and infamously known as the White Princess of the True Ancestors), and it was at this age he was abducted by that damned Goblet of Fire, while he was sitting on a park bench with Sakura.

And now, here he was, about to be a Master in the Fifth Holy Grail War. He lifted his hand, and looked at the murky Command Seals, the stigmata noting him as being chosen by the Grail. Kiritsugu had been tight-lipped about why he had his Saber Servant destroy the Grail that had manifested the one time Hadrian had asked: he didn't trust the ward of Kirei Kotomine enough, and Kirei, when asked about the subject, merely called Kiritsugu a coward.

The Holy Grail War…a conflict instituted just under two centuries ago by three powerful Magus families: the von Einzberns of Germany, the Makiris of Russia (before moving to Japan and becoming the Matous), and the Tohsakas of Japan. The Grail itself was not the drinking vessel of Jesus, but rather, a specially-engineered magical device that, when primed with enough mana, could work miracles. One of them was a limited form of the Third True Magic the von Einzberns desired to regain, the Heaven's Feel, allowing for Heroic Spirits, the souls of long-dead heroes from myth and history, to be revived as familiars known as Servants.

Each of the seven Servants would be summoned as a particular class. Sabers were swordfighters, masters of melee combat. Lancers were alacritous spearmen. Archers were those who used ranged weaponry from bows to guns, and even more exotic weapons. Riders were known for their mounts and vehicles. Berserkers traded sanity for raw strength and tenacity. Assassins were masters of stealth, killing swiftly and silently from the shadows. And Casters were masters of magic and changing reality around them, physically weak, but formidable within their own territories.

Once six of the seven Servants were slain, the Grail could be used as a means to fulfil any wish it could grant to the remaining Servant and their Magus Master. However, Kirei had stated that, in order to be used to its fullest potential, all seven Servants needed to die. Only then would it become a gateway to Akasha, the Root of All Things. The ultimate noosphere, containing knowledge from the past, present, and even the future.

Hadrian wondered why the Grail chose him. The only wishes he had were those he could achieve himself: to be with Sakura, and to help his friends. If he had another wish, one that would draw him into this conflict, it would be, why did Kiritsugu destroy the Grail? What possessed him to cause that calamity all those years ago by destroying the Grail? And why was his guardian so damned coy about things?

Even before he got abducted, he hadn't been living at the church where Kirei Kotomine resided for some time, using the monies he got from being an Executor to buy a house nearby. Even before then, he sometimes slept over at Rin's place. While the two annoyed each other, they also viewed each other as siblings…which would make Rin's reaction to his relationship with Sakura interesting. At least he'd managed to get the two sisters to patch up their relationship enough that they'd acknowledge each other as sisters in private: Rin had inherited a little too much of her father's detachment from normal human affection, and Sakura had been ordered by Zouken Matou to act as if she was never a Tohsaka.

No. There was one wish he could use. It was to purge those damned worms from Sakura's body, or at least change them into magic circuits completely. His magic kept them subdued, but it was a temporary fix, not a full one. Sakura felt repulsed at them being within her body, at what they had done to her from a very young age. To males, Crest Worms were bad enough, eating into bone marrow and nerves, but to females, they pretty much raped them. And Sakura had also been psychologically abused by Zouken, and sexually abused by her own adoptive brother.

Well, Hadrian intended for that shit to stop. Sakura was his friend. He'd only (barely) tolerated dealing with the Matous because if he wiped them out, Clock Tower would come down on his head for interfering with Magus affairs unduly (never mind the fact that Zouken made most of the more immoral Magi look like kittens). Though maybe he could get away with some collateral damage during the Grail War.

Then again, he had an issue with Shinji nearly dislocating Sakura's arm for, in his eyes, defying him. And he was going to deal with said issue before very long. Thanks to his time on that other world, he had just the right tools. He had told Sakura what he was planning. Now, people thought that Sakura was a demure, goody-two shoes, but in truth, she had a hidden darker side to her, born from years of abuse, physical, mental, and sexual. And she gave considerable approval to that plan.

Of course, if he gained the right Servant, he also had another avenue to try…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Hadrian Kotomine…aka Harry Potter raised by Kirei. Kickarse Executor and maverick…and Sakura's boyfriend. And soon to be Master of the Fifth Holy Grail War.**

 **Keep in mind, time runs a little differently in the Nasuverse compared to the Potterverse, at least for this fic. So Harry is 16 (as is Sakura), but he should have been 14 (well, nearly 15 after going through the TWT).**

 **His relationship with Kirei is…distant but cordial. Hell, Hadrian gets along better with Gilgamesh (and he thinks Gilgamesh is an arrogant fuck with a stick up his arse, while Gilgamesh thinks him an uncouth mongrel, though he thinks Hadrian amusing enough to be a court jester). But it's probably true that Kirei, if he didn't indulge his sadism, would make a better parents than the Dursleys. Sad, but true.**

 **This will involve some bashing, BTW. Hermione, Luna, Remus and Sirius will definitely be Harry's allies, but Dumbledore and Snape will not. They'll make appearances later…**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	13. Hadrian Kotomine Chapter 2

**I'm gratified at the response this story garnered. So, here's the second one. This, hopefully, will be the beginning of a spate of more _Fate/Stay Night_ fics from me (as opposed to the _Fate/Zero_ ones I've done), and maybe a revival of _Perils of Magical Investigative Journalism_. Most of them will be Potterverse crossovers, but there may be other ones, depending.**

 **Incidentally, Sakura, as this chapter shows, will be the Master of Medea as Caster, while Hadrian will be the Master of Medusa as Rider. However, the main pairing will remain Hadrian/Sakura. Medea will get a certain dogfather, and Medusa will get a certain werewolf...**

* * *

 _ **HADRIAN KOTOMINE**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **THE WIZARD, THE WITCH, AND THE MAGUS**

The first moment that they got tangled up with the latest Grail War, though, came not on purpose but by chance. Hadrian and Sakura had been going on a bit of a date, a lovely walk through the woods along Mount Ryuudou. There was something calm and peaceful about these woods, not like the park that had been established after the Fuyuki Fire, the conflagration that marked the end of the previous Holy Grail War. That park had a sickly, even malevolent sense to it, and few lingered within its bounds. But even in the rain, which Hadrian used an umbrella to keep from Sakura's head and his own, this forested area had a beauty all of its own.

It was the day after they explained their story to Shirou. To Taiga Fujimura, they stuck to their story, only with an added and somewhat inaccurate embellishment: they had been abducted by enemies of his guardian. And while Taiga was unaware of magic or magecraft, she was aware that Kiritsugu and Kirei had been involved in shady dealings. She couldn't be said to be unaware of such things: her grandfather was a Yakuza boss, after all, even if he was a more principled one. Hadrian actually liked old Raiga, and he enjoyed trolling Taiga. Indeed, he was probably the only person capable of getting away with calling her 'Tiger', though this was probably because he could kick her arse without magic…as long as he avoided her infamous _shinai_ or kendo practise sword.

Hadrian, when it came to physical combat, used a combination of his own guardian's variation on Bajiquan, as well as a style he had come across by chance. He found out, rather accidentally, that one of the teachers at their school, Souichirou Kuzuki, was a former assassin with an interesting style, dubbed 'Snake' style. Kuzuki, while not aware of magic before he met Hadrian, was nonetheless aware of secretive worlds beneath the surface, and Hadrian had managed to persuade the man to teach some elements of the style when he revealed what entities he had to fight. Although stoic, even empty inside in a way that made Kirei look like he was overflowing by comparison, Hadrian felt that Kuzuki had some satisfaction in knowing his techniques could be used for more than assassination, or at least for something greater than the assassin group he once belonged to.

Hadrian could not even be said to be a master of 'Snake'. If anything, he was an amateur, partly because Kuzuki was ridiculously disciplined, more so than Hadrian or Kirei. But knowing some of the 'Snake' style gave him more of a repertoire. He had surprised more than a few belligerent idiots during his time in the Tri-Wizard Tournament with his techniques.

Kuzuki, oddly enough, resided at Ryuudou Temple. Admittedly, so too did one of their fellow students, Issei Ryuudou, though he was the son of the head monk. Hadrian trusted Kuzuki: the man was simple. Not stupid, but his mindset was simple. He had been raised as a tool, a living weapon, and even retired, he still maintained this mindset, even if he was a teacher first, and an assassin second. If someone asked him to stay quiet about something, he would unless there was a reason not to. Magic surprised him, true, but Kuzuki didn't remain that way.

Hadrian bit back a chuckle at the thought of Kuzuki encountering those idiots back in his birth dimension. Sakura noticed, though. "Harry?" she asked. She was the only person who could call him that and he wouldn't correct her. As much as Shirou and Rin were his friends, Sakura was even more so. He got angry with those morons in the other world who kept calling him 'Harry'. At least the Hermione girl and that weird girl Luna got a clue, as did the werewolf and that lech who claimed to be his godfather. That redhead, while not a bad guy, was a bit clueless, unlike his twin brothers.

"Harry?" she asked again. "Why were you smiling like that?"

"Oh, I was just thinking of what would happen if those idiots in that other world encountered Mr Kuzuki and gave him grief for being a 'mere Muggle'."

Sakura giggled. "There'd be bodies everywhere if he decided to let loose. Not necessarily corpses, but I'm sure they'd wish they were dead." Sakura's patience with the wizards in that world had worn through pretty quickly, and considering how patient she was, that was saying something. Then again, between Snape's insults, the old goat's meddling, and those idiot Blood Purists (they didn't even have a justification for old families having better magic, as some quick research entailed: if anything, inbreeding had caused the opposite), well, they had tried to tear the two of them apart. And nobody took Hadrian away from Sakura Matou.

The wizards may have been less amoral than most Magi, true, but while many Magi were conservative and behind the times, the wizards were stuck in the Victorian era at the latest, a few innovations like a 'Wizarding Wireless' and the Knight Bus notwithstanding. Rin had trouble working a TV or a computer at home, but at least she was aware of what they were.

"So, what Servant do you think we'll get?" Hadrian asked. "I'd probably be of the type to suit a Caster or an Assassin. Then again, Kirei was Master of Assassin in the previous Grail War, so maybe I shouldn't get one."

"I don't really care which Servant we get, as long as our Servants help protect us and Shirou," Sakura mused. "I wouldn't mind a Saber, though. Especially one like Arturia."

"Hey, you've already got one knight in shining armour, do you really want another one?" Hadrian teased. "And as much as I don't subscribe to chivalry, I'd love to meet Arturia."

He actually felt something of a kinship, of sorts, with the famous Saber who was known to history as King Arthur. He had met with Waver Velvet a few times, who had inherited the title of Lord El-Melloi from his teacher, Kayneth Archibald. Okay, that wasn't by choice, more to avoid any disputes with the Archibalds after Waver stole Kayneth's summoning catalyst, and Kayneth, along with his fiancée, died during the Grail War, but still, he was curious. He had learned that Gilgamesh used to be Tokiomi's Servant, though given the man's alleged murder at the hands of Kariya Matou, Kirei probably took up the reins. Assuming the Gilgamesh Hadrian knew was a Servant (and frankly, Hadrian didn't know how that was possible outside of the Grail War), anyway.

Waver had spoken of his Servant, Iskandar, better known as Alexander the Great of Macedonia. A Rider in the previous Grail War, and a personal inspiration to Waver. Though Waver did agree with Hadrian in at least one regard that his Rider Servant had a flaw: Iskandar disputing Arturia's wish on the Grail.

Arturia wished to relive her rule. Iskandar disdained both that, and her self-martyring and alienating form of kingship, though Hadrian disagreed to a degree. True, Arturia could have ruled better, but wasn't that the point of her wanting a second chance? To learn from her mistakes and correct them?

In the unlikely event that she was ever summoned as a Saber for this Grail War, Hadrian wanted to give her a hug. As much of a twisted and massive troll he was, he'd also been in her shoes to a degree. Born to a destiny forced upon them? Fame stage-managed by a meddling old wizard (Hadrian only learned of Dumbledore's manipulations when he first met the man) who wanted a martyring leader? Shaped by circumstances into something set apart from the norm of humanity? Check, check, and check.

His thoughts on the matter were interrupted when he heard Sakura gasp in horror. His gaze was brought sharply to what she saw. They had emerged near the stairs leading up to Ryuudou Temple, to find a figure collapsed on the sodden ground. A robed figure, apparently that of a woman, her breath rasping with effort. She sounded like she was dying.

Hadrian took a moment to check carefully. While the robes weren't like those he had seen in that other universe, he knew that the wizards wanted him back. However, his senses, while screaming danger, didn't seem to indicate that this was a trap. The robed woman, while dangerous, was only dangerous in the way a dagger was: dangerous if mishandled.

After he indicated to Sakura that it should be safe, the pair of them scampered over and knelt down next to the woman. "Hey, are you okay?" Hadrian asked as he pulled back the hood covering the woman's face…and stared.

The woman was utterly beautiful, inhumanly so. While the hood would have given a more sinister set to her features, in truth, her beauty was a sorrowful one, framed by lavender locks, and streaked with tear marks. Her ears, oddly enough, were pointed, giving her the air of an elf from fantasy fiction.

Her eyes flickered open, and stared at them both blearily, glistening with tears. "Are you all right?" Hadrian repeated, as Sakura began getting to work, checking her body, ready to heal it.

"I've been better," the woman said, a sardonic smile touching her lips.

"Harry…" Sakura said quietly. "Despite appearances…she's not human. Ears notwithstanding." She looked the woman in the eye. "Are you a Servant?"

The woman's sardonic smile grew slightly. "Servant Caster, at your service."

"Then where's your Master?" Hadrian asked.

"Dead," Caster said. "So I am about to deplete my mana reserves, and with it, my existence. You two are Magi?"

"I am a Magus, and Hadrian here is…well, he's Magus-trained," Sakura said.

Hadrian, after some debate, took a vial from his jacket pocket, and handed it to Caster. On her suspicious look, Hadrian said, "It helps replenish mana. I don't know whether it'll help a Servant, but…"

Caster took it and downed it after a brief hesitation. She grimaced, but seemed to straighten. "Hmm. Not bad, boy. Hadrian, was it? And you, girl?"

"Sakura Matou."

* * *

After some debate, Hadrian and Sakura decided to take Caster to Ryuudou Temple for now. While Hadrian could Apparate home (well, that's what the wizards of that other Earth called his teleportation ability), he also knew the monks would be amenable to allowing a stranger to stay for a time. In addition, just as they began helping Caster up the stairs, Kuzuki showed up, and helped them.

Soon, they were in Kuzuki's room, Caster sitting, contemplating a cup of tea that Kuzuki had made. For all the man's stoicism and lack of emotion, he was a considerate host, even if that was done to camouflage his nature rather than out of true goodwill. Hadrian and Sakura had explained, albeit in brief, what Caster's appearance meant.

Kuzuki opted to leave them alone for now. And they were alone with a Servant. "Before either of us agree to make a contract with you," Hadrian said, "I want to know who you are and why your Master died."

"And what makes you think that I would tell you anything, boy?" Caster asked.

"Well, you're an honest and forthright soul, I would imagine," Hadrian joked. "And in any case, while I'm not a priest, I do work for the Church. Maybe this could be a confessional? A bit big for one, really, but still…"

"Oh? And if I say anything objectionable, how would you stop me? I may be low on mana, boy, but I am still a Servant."

"And?" Hadrian said. "Like I said, I work for the Church. I'm an exorcise machine. And a Heroic Spirit can be exorcised. If you're a threat to my friends, then I will deal with you, or die trying."

That was a bit of a bluff. True, the Executors of the Burial Agency could exorcise spirits, possibly even Heroic Spirits, but Hadrian didn't know how. But his magic was powerful enough to be mistaken for magic from the Age of the Gods.

Caster seemed to debate with herself, before she sighed. "I'll answer your questions in reverse order. I killed my Master myself, a foolish Magus by the name of Atrum Galliasta."

Hadrian knew that name. "That smug hack of an alchemist? I heard he was involved in kidnapping people for his experiments, and only got away with it because of his connections. Not to mention not getting caught. How did he get chosen as a Master?"

"So you seem not upset by my killing him?"

"Just elucidate, please. Why did you kill him?"

"Well, the method he used to harvest mana offended me, for one thing. Indeed, I set free his prisoners after I killed him," Caster said. "In addition, he took offence to my claim that my abilities were far superior to his own, and that I could obtain mana more efficiently. Not to mention that he considered me worthless when he thought I could use an ability that I did not possess, not in this form. He had used his Command Seal to prevent me from attacking him, as my legend has something of a reputation, but I had a means around that. My Noble Phantasm. It can sever contracts and negate magecraft. I was able to break our contract."

"Is Atrum Galliasta that bad, Harry?" Sakura asked.

"Not as bad as your grandfather, but that's not saying much. He was still heavily involved in human trafficking, even if nobody could prove it. Why Bazett tolerates him as a colleague is beyond me," Hadrian said. "Okay, so your Master wasn't the best. So, who are you? Well, were you, I mean."

Again, Caster seemed to debate with herself, before she admitted, "Medea of Colchis."

After a moment, Hadrian looked at Sakura, before remarking, "Well, Jason was definitely a fucking idiot. Then again, the Ancient Greeks were known for their misogyny, weren't they? Well, except for the Spartans, and even then, there was the whole Helot thing, and throwing babies off a cliff if they looked sickly. So, what do you reckon, Sakura?"

The two of them read up on history and myth, partly to know something about possible Heroic Spirits. And while Medea's tale painted her as the villain, she pretty much helped Jason get the damned Golden Fleece, betrayed her family for him…and she got screwed over. So while Hadrian would be cautious of her, he also knew better than to think of her as a pure villain.

Sakura, after a moment, made the decision. "I had better make the contract. Better not let your eyes stray, after all." Her tone was jesting, though. Although Sakura was wholly devoted to Hadrian, she was open to another relationship with the right girl or woman. Then again, they were too young to have a relationship with Medea. She was at least a decade their senior if not more.

"You are fine with being my Master?" Medea asked, curious. "Despite knowing who I am?"

"I know what it is like to be betrayed by those who should love me," Sakura said softly. "Or for a hero to fail me. Though Uncle Kariya at least tried. I have two heroes to look after me: Hadrian and Shirou. We will fight together until the final stages of the Grail War."

After a moment, Medea nodded. "You are a fool for believing in heroes, but I like your boyfriend already." She tittered. "I've never heard a single person say that Jason was a 'fucking idiot', and vulgar though that was, it was both amusing and gratifying."

"Sakura's the only person, apart from Shirou, who thinks I'm a hero," Hadrian said. "I'm just a half-baked trash collector who deals with rogue Magi and Dead Apostles. But I also try to consider both sides of the argument. That's why I'm giving you a chance, Medea. Even if I have another Servant, we can be allies until the final stages, and even then, I refuse to hurt Sakura."

"Hmm. Well, that's interesting. Your bonds aside, it's not unusual for Masters to target other Masters. But you have principles?"

"Let's just put it this way. I like pissing people off, but killing them? I only kill those who deserve it…or who need a merciful end. Though some I prolong the end of. If there's any other Masters like your former Master, I'd happily deal with them."

"You should see what he did to the man responsible for kidnapping us recently," Sakura said, before smiling. It was a somewhat dark smile. "He got… _creative_."

Medea raised an eyebrow, and smirked. "Did he? You know, I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship, you two…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. Sakura's got Medea, which means no 'gas leaks'. But who'll get the other Servants? More to the point, which one will Hadrian get?**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	14. Separated at Birth Prologue

**So, hot on the heels of _Hadrian Kotomine_ comes another _Fate/Stay Night_ crossover. This was actually a fusion of two ideas. I really, REALLY wanted to do a Harry/Medea story (and if Thunder Dragon is reading this, yes, I have long ago read the Shirou/Medea story _Path of the King_ , and it's in my favourites, and it is a mild inspiration for the story), and I had recently posted a challenge called 'Harry Tohsaka'. So, I thought, why not combine both? Harry is 20, admittedly, albeit through timey-wimey parallel world shenanigans, despite being Rin's twin (still makes Medea a cougar, though).**

 **Also, this story actually feels like it has a lot more potential than _Hadrian Kotomine_ (which will still be published eventually: there's already six completed chapters). Having started watching the _Unlimited Blade Works_ TV series (at long last), I actually like how much more character development it gave Rin, compared to the original _Fate/Stay Night_ anime. She was pretty unlikeable in the original anime, whereas she starts off much more likeable in _Unlimited Blade Works_. The UBW version of Rin is certainly one of the few _tsundere_ characters I actually like. Mela Lee's improved performance also helps. Anyway, I thought she'd make an interesting foil to Harry. She's a wannabe cold-hearted Magus, and he's a jaded, but still altruistic hero, something that'd also make him an interesting contrast to Shirou, Archer, and Arturia.**

 **Anyway, the prologue begins at the beginning of _Unlimited Blade Works_ (albeit with elements from the _Fate_ and _Heaven's Feel_ storylines being brought in). But the chapters after it will focus on Harry adjusting to a new life in the Nasuverse, and Rin (and Sakura) adjusting to having a brother come up out of nowhere, as well as how Harry gains Medea as a Servant.**

 **Oh, and finally, before I go, there is an EXCELLENT Abridged Series version of _Fate/Stay Night: Unlimited Blade Works_ by BlazingAzureCrow. If you want to hear Archer being called 'Actually Satan' by Rin, Shirou have an obsession with saving pipes, an even more murderous Archer, and what is probably the most heartwarming version of Arturia's summoning (and no, I am not making this up), watch it.**

* * *

 _ **SEPARATED AT BIRTH**_

 **PROLOGUE:**

 **AN ARCHER'S CONFUSION**

The Throne of Heroes. An abstract location located apart from known reality. Some thought of it as Valhalla. Others thought of it as something more abstract than a mere afterlife, like a noosphere, brought about by the collective consciousness of life in their need for heroes. Magi have spent centuries debating the true nature of the Throne, but the one thing that could not be disputed was the fact that it existed. The proof occurred every six decades in the Japanese city of Fuyuki, even if that was only known to the secretive Magi.

It held all manner of Heroic Spirits, even those that didn't seem that heroic. After all, one person's hero could be another's villain. And it even included rather unconventional beings to be called 'heroes'. Namely, the Counter-Guardians.

These were entities who had made deals with either the consciousness of Earth, Gaia, or the collective will of humanity, Alaya. Their mission was to stamp out any threats to the safety of the world, no matter what the cost. Many of them were damned souls tricked into Mephistophelean pacts.

One such Counter-Guardian was the entity known as EMIYA. While made of at least two souls with that damned name, the one we are looking at is the man once known as Shirou Emiya. A boy infected by the ideals his adoptive father once possessed, but had discarded to pursue the life of an assassin. That infection proved malignant, having taken root in rich soil, twisting and warping an already distorted, self-sacrificing personality.

He made a career out of being a hero…until circumstances forced him to make a deal with Alaya. It would have been better to make a deal with the Devil. At least the Devil was actually sadistic. But Alaya was utterly impersonal and indifferent to the suffering it caused Shirou. All it wanted was an attack hound it could point at people to kill, and those people would die. This was what his father did in life. So in a perverse manner, Shirou was continuing the family business in what passed for an afterlife.

But he had a potential opportunity to deal with this situation. EMIYA knew that he would be summoned to at least one iteration of the Fifth Holy Grail War, as the Archer Servant of his former friend Rin Tohsaka. If he could, he would take the opportunity to kill his past self before he could make the contract with Alaya. With luck, the time paradox that resulted would erase EMIYA from existence. If not…well, at least he tried.

Suddenly, he felt the pull, and smiled sardonically. He could hear her words as she chanted. " _For the origin, silver and steel. For the cornerstone, gem and the Archduke of Contracts. For the ancestor, my great master Schweinorg_. _The alighted wind becomes a wall. Close the gates in the four directions. From the crown, come forth. Trace the three-forked road leading to the kingdom. Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Repeat fivefold, and when each is filled, destroy it_."

 _Well, here goes nothing_ , EMIYA thought. No, Archer. He needed to think of himself as Archer. Emiya was the boy he wanted to destroy, the thoughtless boy who condemned himself to eternal suffering because of his damned ideals. Ideals he had drowned in, and become a monster.

Then, the pull intensified, and the climactic chant began. He felt himself falling through time and relative dimensions in space, while he heard her voice speak…

" _Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world, that I shall defeat all evil in the world! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!_ "

Everything dissolved into a flare of actinic light…

* * *

…And then, he was in freefall. There was something rather Pythonesque, he reflected, in what was about to happen. While he wanted to wreck people's shit in the Grail War, he didn't want to wreck Rin's house.

He didn't scream…though he was tempted to whoop and holler. Instead, he thought, _Trace On_. His Servant body could withstand the impact, true, but it didn't hurt to be careful when one was falling at terminal velocity. Reinforcement was just an insurance policy more than anything. He looked down, and noticed Tohsaka Manor coming up to meet him like a cream pie to the face in some slapstick routine. Yep, Alaya, along with just about every other fucker with a sliver of omnipotence and a bad sense of humour, had it out for him.

And then, with a great crash, he smashed through the roof of Tohsaka Manor, landing on his face. It didn't really hurt…well, his dignity got a little bruised, but it had suffered worse injuries than that. He'd live…well, at least until the time had come to sodomise causality more than Gáe Bolg did. Speaking of which, he was looking forward to trolling Cú Chulainn this time around. That bastard was going to get it for shoving that damned penis spear into his chest.

He got to his feet, and arranged himself on a nearby lounge, making it seemed like he landed on it. Yes, just like that. Look just the right kind of badass.

Archer frowned when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. This wouldn't be that problematic: he was expecting Rin to make an appearance. But his sharp ears picked up at least one other set of footsteps. And he was certain Rin was living alone at this juncture.

The door burst open, and Rin rushed in. Ah, seeing her was so nostalgic. The dark hair done up in twin pigtails, the aqua eyes…that ridiculously short skirt she wore when not at school…

But she was accompanied by someone else. Not Shirou, and not anyone he was familiar with from that life. In fact, he wasn't sure who the hell this was at all.

For one thing, he wasn't Japanese. He was European, with dark, messy hair, emerald eyes peering out from behind glasses. A lightning bolt-shaped scar zigzagged from beneath his fringe. He appeared to be a few years Rin's senior, maybe in his early twenties even.

And yet, despite the lack of oriental features, there was something about the young man's appearance that seemed very much like Rin's. The shape of the face, the intensity of the expression…and there was the way he kept close to Rin. Not a boyfriend…but a sibling? But Rin didn't have any siblings, barring Sakura, and she had been adopted out to the Matou family.

Then, the next surprise of the evening came. The young man spoke in English, rather than Japanese. "Is this really a Servant?"

"Of course he is. He must be," Rin declared. She then frowned. "But is he a Saber?"

 _No luck there_ , Archer thought. He gave them a wink and a cocky smirk.

"We told you about the clocks, remember?" the young man groaned, palming his face. "But no, once you get it into your head…I thought Hermione was stubborn at times. Have you been taking notes from her?"

"Oh, be quiet for a moment!" Rin snapped. Taking some deep, calming breaths, Rin seemed to resolve herself to make the best of a bad lot. "You there! What class of Servant are you meant to be?"

Archer scoffed. _Never change, Rin_ , he thought with a nostalgic pang in his chest. Out loud, he said, "And what kind of question is that? We've only just met. What an unusual little Master I've been summoned by. Then again, maybe I'm the one who got the short end of the stick."

"Oh great, you summoned the Troll class of Servant," the young man said with a flat look. "Call Zelretch, he's probably missing one of his apprentices."

Archer actually had to stop himself from chuckling. That was pretty funny. Rin, meanwhile, asked, "Are you my Servant? And nobody else's? I'm making sure we understand one another off the bat."

"Sure. But where is the evidence that you are my Master?"

Rin showed off her Command Seals. "Right here. That should be all you need to know."

Archer was about to retort, trolling Rin, before he heard a familiar, and unwelcome, voice intrude. " _Actually, aside from your Command Seals, I can tell that there is a mana flow between you two._ " A hooded, robed shape materialised next to the young man. A very familiar robed shape. "Your Servant is merely being insolent in the name of what he believes is humour. I don't know whether to applaud or rebuke him," purred the sultry voice of a too-familiar witch.

"Caster, poke not the Tsundere Missile, for it may go off in our faces," the young man sighed quietly.

 _Oh shit, oh shit, OH FUCK, what is_ _ **SHE**_ _doing here?!_ Archer yelled within the confines of his skull. He fought to keep as much surprise as possible off his face, only allowing the bare minimum to show. The sort of surprise at having another Servant present. "And what is another Servant doing here?" he asked, trying to keep as calm as he could. With mixed success. He wasn't actually scared of this witch, he could deal with her easily enough if he wanted to, but her being here presented a variable he hadn't accounted for, more so than this young man being here. He hadn't been in this time for five minutes, and already he was lost.

Was Rin under that witch's control? Was this young man controlling her through Caster?

"She's my brother's Servant. Well, she is now," Rin said. "Caster was summoned by another Magus, but they had…a falling out. Not that I'm happy allowing a stray in the house after betraying her Master, but..."

"You weren't complaining when I gave you pointers on working on that Mystic Code for that Dead Apostle with the appalling sense of humour," Caster remarked. "Or enhanced those faded Bounded Fields around your home. And I'm still formulating that ritual for those vile things in your sister."

The young man sighed. "Caster, Sis, play nice." He looked over at Archer, his emerald eyes meeting Archer's silver ones. Archer was struck by how much those emerald-coloured eyes reminded him of Saber's, of Arturia Pendragon, the young woman known to history as King Arthur. The love he had lost. Not quite the look of a king, but certainly the look of a seasoned warrior, and too young too. "My twin sister and I have an alliance, at least until the final stage of the Grail War."

"Your _twin_ sister? You don't look that much alike. You look Caucasian, and she looks Japanese. Not to mention she looks younger than you," Archer said.

"It's a very long story involving a kidnapping and a blood adoption in another world," the young man said. "Time flows between different universes are weird. I'm twenty, Rin's seventeen. All of which meant that she got the Magic Crest. I don't mind."

"Because you've got that stupid magic from that other world," Rin retorted. "That is so unfair."

"Should I get some popcorn?" Caster asked. "I get a craving for some while watching you two bicker. I wish we had that back in my time. You argue like an old married couple, only with the additional frisson of incest involved. Though given the blood adoption procedure, you're technically half-siblings now…"

"Caster. TMI," the young man said.

Archer looked askance at Rin. "And you trust your brother to fight alongside you, even though he is also an enemy Master?"

"He even signed a geas contract to that effect," Rin declared. "We both did. Until our Servants are the last ones standing, we cannot attack one another. We modified it so that we are in a coma for a month and we forfeit our privileges as Masters rather than losing our magic or our lives, but still…"

Archer wondered whether that was prudent or stupid. Still, two Masters and two Servants working together were better than one, though he had to wonder how trustworthy Caster was, given his prior experience.

The witch in question strutted over, and examined him critically, her eyes glinting out from beneath her hood. "Hmm…well, at least you're not my first husband. Alliance or not, I would have ended your existence forthwith if you were. You don't look like anyone I know either. Since there are only three classes left to draw, you're either a Saber, an Assassin, or an Archer. So, please answer Rin's question. Which class are you?"

"If you must know, I am an Archer. Though I have some tricks up my sleeve."

"I'm sure you do. I'd be interested to see them," Caster said with a smile.

Archer looked at the three of them. If it had only been Rin, he might have engaged in some ribbing, push her buttons and stoke her temper, make her remember how inexperienced she truly was. However, he didn't know how Caster or her Master would react, at least if he pushed her too far. With a weary sigh, he stood up. "Well, it seems like I am stuck with you, my Master. However, keep in mind that I will take the lead when it comes to tactics. Try not to get yourself killed."

"We watch each other's backs," the young man said. "Besides, magical tournament with possibly lethal consequences? Yeah, I've been there before. Not this Holy Grail War BS where we battle to the death for an overrated cup. But I've been there before. And in war."

He meant it. There was no lie in the boy's sardonic admission. Archer found himself feeling a little sorry. Another person who saw hell too young. "Incidentally, I'm curious. We Servants must conceal our name to conceal our weaknesses, but Masters are another matter. What's your name?"

"Harry. I thought my last name was Potter, but it was really Tohsaka. As I said, and hard thought it is to believe, I'm Rin's brother…"

 **PROLOGUE ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. Harry's the brother of Rin Tohsaka, believe it or not, and he's the Master of Medea. Now, for the next few chapters, we'll have how Harry ended up at this point. In fairly abbreviated form, anyway.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	15. Separated at Birth Chapter 1

**Well, I'm gratified at the response my prologue chapter for _Separated at Birth_ has garnered. It's worth pointing out, though, that the full story won't be as humour-filled as that one. I thought about Archer and his character, and thought, instead of having angsty dialogue about his admittedly shitty situation, he would just snark at everything as a coping mechanism. Keep in mind, he does have some very dry snark at times. This story will still have some humour in it, mostly some snark. Hell, even Sakura gets in on it (calling Harry sick of living when he keeps calling Taiga 'Tiger', for example). And Harry will make some cynical observations of the various Servants. But this will be a mostly serious story.**

 **Incidentally, this chapter marks a few milestones. Over 400K words in _The Cauldron_ , over 900 reviews, over 380K views...**

* * *

 _ **SEPARATED AT BIRTH**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **REUNION**

 _About a year ago_ …

A young European man, maybe eighteen or nineteen, walked down the street in Fuyuki one cold Saturday. Beyond his apparently being a foreigner, there wasn't much remarkable about him. He was somewhat scrawny, with a shaggy mop of untameable black hair, from underneath a lightning-like scar snaked out, scarring his forehead.

Not for the first time, he cursed the spite of one man who had exposed a secret he hadn't known about, one that had severed ties that were already tenuous. At least one friendship had been thoughtlessly broken off before it could begin anew, the press, having lauded him as their saviour, had once more turned on him (big surprise there). And it was only through the friends that remained that he even had a chance to start anew.

He used to call himself Harry Potter. But thanks to that bastard Snape, he didn't even have that. His birth name was Risei Tohsaka(1). He was born Japanese, from another world. And as he found out from the letter Snape had published in _The Daily Prophet_. Well, it was a rather extended epistle. Whatever small goodwill Snape had garnered from Harry for his sacrifice and for showing him his love for Lily had been wiped away. Snape had probably known it would only come out after his death: his letter opened with Captain Ahab's dying words as he harpoons Moby Dick. _From hell's heart I stab at thee. For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee_.

Snape was no hero. He was just a spiteful man filled with self-interest, dying only because he hoped to take down Voldemort and Harry with him. And as he knew Harry had a chance of surviving due to that damned harebrained plan of Dumbledore, he set up this letter. He exposed a lot of Dumbledore's dirty laundry, stuff that even Rita Skeeter hadn't found out about for her sensationalist biography. Including Harry's true origins.

Apparently James had been sterile for some time, ever since a curse from Snape hit him. Concerned, Dumbledore decided to take matters into his own hands. Lily, at his behest, had faked a pregnancy, and he had found, it was claimed, an orphaned baby boy, one that they used a Blood Adoption ritual on. Snape later learned from Dumbledore (as late as Harry's Second Year) that Dumbledore had used a ritual and his Phoenix Fawkes to claim a child, one from another world. One with the magical potential to vanquish Voldemort. Someone Dumbledore could make into his protégé. Or puppet.

Harry hadn't been inclined to believe the words coming from Snape's poison pen at first, but too many were. There had been a lot of chaos, not least because Snape had exposed Voldemort's true heritage as a Halfblood too. Apparently Sirius and Remus had known, as Harry found out when he went back and found the Resurrection Stone to ask them, but they had been subject to Memory Charms from Dumbledore. Which meant the Blood Wards did sod all. Dumbledore had lied to justify Harry staying at the Dursleys.

For final confirmation, Harry went to Gringotts. The Goblins had fined him much of his money in response to that saga, and had only refrained from taking the rest of it because Harry explained about the Horcrux. Still, relations between Harry and the Goblins were fraught, and they had charged him far more than usual to do the inheritance test.

And there it was, the undeniable truth. Harry's birth name was Risei Tohsaka, blood adopted by the Potters. What was more, Snape's words of Harry coming from another world meant that he needed to find a way to get to that world. He had sacrificed so much to save this damned country from Voldemort, and for what? Ginny had, after some thoughts of getting back together, broken off with him in a thoughtless act, thinking he had lied to her. Ron had taken Harry's side, albeit for the reason that Snape was a spiteful bastard (though Ron's words were far stronger, to Molly's annoyance), though his relationship with Hermione broke down for unrelated purposes. Molly, thankfully, had been a comfort to Harry.

Into this appalling situation came an unlikely saviour. Luna Lovegood.

Luna Lovegood was, admittedly, a rather strange girl, but they began to realise she was very strange indeed. It became even more apparent when they met a man she called a grandfather, a tall, powerfully-built man by the name of Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, better known and cursed as Zelretch. Despite looking old, he had a vitality and an impish sense of humour that clicked with George Weasley.

Oh, and he was a centuries-old vampire from another world.

Zelretch came from a world where magic, while hidden, was different in many regards. It was more rigidly structured in many regards, and its study was, much to Hermione's delight, more 'scientific', if such a word could be applied to magic, or rather, magecraft. Having heard of Harry's plight during a rare visit to Luna, he wanted to meet Harry. After all, he had connections with the Tohsaka family, with Harry's ancestor Nagato being one of Zelretch's most famous apprentices (and one of the few he hadn't broken). And Harry was pleased to learn that the sisters the inheritance test had indicated were still alive. Rin, and Sakura, though his birth parents were dead. Oh, and time passed weirdly between the two worlds: Harry was nineteen, but his twin sister was now sixteen.

It was months of preparation before Harry, along with his friends, took Zelretch up on his offer to shift to another world. Part of it was Hermione retrieving her parents and dealing with the fallout after restoring their memories. They reconciled, but relations were fraught for a time. There was also education in magecraft and the nature of the new world they were going to head to. The Lovegoods, Harry, the Grangers, George Weasley, Andromeda Tonks and Teddy Lupin. Outcasts and the broken. They left Magical Britain, though not before Harry left a letter of his own to be published in _The Daily Prophet_. It ended with Harry telling them that, if another Dark Lord arose, then they could save themselves. Fawkes had come with them, the Phoenix apparently wishing to make up for his crime in kidnapping Harry in the first place by becoming his familiar.

This world was, if anything, even harsher than the one he left behind. Older magic families held sway again, though at least this time, there was some small justification. Older families had more of a connection to magic. Magecraft was developed through research. And, ironically, the more people who could use it, the less effective it was, partly thanks to Gaia, the consciousness of the world. Not that it effected magic from his former world, but Harry found himself able to use both, amazingly, something only the others could only match with difficulty and transplanted magic circuits.

Okay, learning magecraft was hard as hell, and having to shift gears from what he thought of as magic to a different form was jarring. But he managed to cram the basics in. He was appalled at the amoral attitude of many Magi, and he knew that Clock Tower was not for him. Hermione became the research assistant to Waver Velvet, Lord El-Melloi II, a young man of considerable note, and one of the few higher-ups in Clock Tower without a major stick up his arse. George became Zelretch's protégé, not in magic, but in pranking, though Luna became an apprentice for magic.

But Harry wanted to reconnect with his family. And after learning the translation charms needed to speak Japanese, as well as material needed for him to learn the language properly, he set out for Japan, and to Fuyuki. Beforehand, Zelretch engaged with Rin in correspondence, letting her know about her long lost relative. She was sceptical for various reasons (not least of which was Zelretch's reputation for being a troll), but eventually agreed to see him.

There was a possible reason for her recalcitrance, Harry knew. Magi's magic research was engraved within the magic circuits within their body, as a semi-biological component. This could be transplanted upon death into a relative or even an heir not of their blood. These were known as Magic Crests, and were valuable beyond belief. As they could only be granted to a single heir, multiple children could lead to an inheritance dispute. Well, unless you had the Ore Scales sorcery trait of the Edelfelt family. Rin may have been worried that, as priority was given to male heirs normally, and Harry was, despite being her twin, technically older.

It was why his youngest sister, Sakura, had been adopted out. Apparently she was now the heiress to the Matou family, formerly the Makiris of Russia. He thought that rather callous, but Zelretch had sadly relayed to him that this was not uncommon, and the Matous were lately producing the Magi equivalent of Squibs.

As his thoughts came to an end, so did his journey. He found himself in front of an old, dilapidated estate. Grand, yes, but with ivy crawling all over the house, and the gardens unkempt. Still, there was an intercom next to the gate, and he pressed the button. After a moment, the speaker crackled, and he was greeted in Japanese.

In English, he asked, "Rin Tohsaka?"

" _Yes? Who is this?_ " the girl replied in quite good English.

"It's Harry. Zelretch mentioned I was coming here."

After a moment, he heard her reply, her voice filled with irritation and wariness, " _Come in. But no funny stuff._ "

* * *

He was greeted at the door by a suspicious Rin. It was startling how much he resembled her, her oriental features notwithstanding. True, her eyes were more aqua, and her hair wasn't as messy, but the shape of the face and the colour of the hair were similar. She wore a red shirt with a white cross-like symbol stitched into it, and a black skirt that was rather scandalously short. A silence fell, before Harry said, rather awkwardly, "Hi."

"Hello," Rin said stiffly, shaking his proffered hand warily after he entered. "You're the one who is supposed to be my twin brother."

"If it makes you feel any better, it was very much a surprise to me too," Harry said.

"It doesn't. I wouldn't have even given it credit if it weren't for Zelretch, and even then, that damned Dead Apostle is infamous for his practical jokes," Rin said. "Which is why I have prepared a certain ritual in advance. It allows me to determine whether you are my brother or not, as well as whether you are a Homunculus. More than a few Magi family have fallen prey to a lost heir turning out to be a Homunculus, planted by another family. The von Einzberns did that more than once."

Ah, yes. The von Einzberns. Zelretch gave him a crash course on Fuyuki, and the event it was most famous for, the Holy Grail War. An event that was founded not only by Zelretch himself, but by three prominent Magus families: the von Einzberns, the Tohsakas, and the Matous, back when they were the Makiris. He found that hard to believe, what happened in these bloody tournaments, but he was glad he probably wouldn't have to see it: they only occurred every sixty years, and the last one was nine years ago.

"Well, would it make you feel any better if I said I had no desire for the Magic Crest?"

"No."

"…What about if I brought along some money, tomes, and magical artifacts…sorry, you call them Mystic Codes, don't you? Jeez, I keep messing up with the terminology."

"…Did you happen to bring any jewels?" Rin asked, her attitude going from suspicious to tentatively hopeful.

Harry grinned. Zelretch had mentioned that the Tohsakas had an affinity with Jewelcraft, infusing jewels with magical properties. He pulled out of his pocket his shrunken trunk, and placed it on the floor. He touched a special switch, then opened up the trunk, revealing the compartment that held the precious jewels he had taken from the Potter vault. Her eyes glittered with avarice, not for their monetary worth, but something else. She walked over, and gently scooped out a few. "These are of excellent quality. They are perfect for Jewelcraft. Do you know how to use that?"

"Only what Zelretch managed to teach me, based on our ancestor's notes," Harry said. "I've managed some of the basics, but I've only been doing this for a few weeks." He pulled out a bag in the same compartment, sitting on top of the jewels, and tipped out about half a dozen jewels, and handed them to Rin.

She examined them critically, and remarked, "Sloppy. Not bad, but sloppy work. Then again, for someone who has been doing it for only a few weeks, I'm actually impressed. If you really were raised on another world using another form of magic, then this is surprisingly good."

"Thank you," Harry remarked, a little acidly at her blunt assessment. "So…this ritual?"

"Oh, yes. Right. Come with me, please."

As they walked through the house, Harry said, "Your English is very good."

"Thank you. Between our high school English teacher and tuition from my guardian, I'd like to think I'm rather good at it. I speak German as well: I use it for my incantations."

"Yeah, your guardian. Where are they, anyway?" Harry asked.

Rin scowled. "He's at the church he runs. Kirei Kotomine. A priest and a Magus. I don't think you'll like him, though."

"And Sakura?"

"…That's complicated," Rin said after a brief pause. "My father told me to treat her like she is a Matou now, before he died. And I think Zouken told her to treat me the same way. We're on good enough terms, but we haven't called each other sister for years now. It's for the best."

"Bollocks," Harry said succinctly. "I came here to meet my family, and that's what I'm going to do. Anyway, let's get on with this ritual first. Just leave me enough blood to write my will with, okay?"

"Ha ha," Rin said flatly.

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry has met his twin sister. Now, events will skip around a little until the events of** ** _Fate/Stay Night_** **. You have been warned.**

 **1\. Thinking of a Japanese name for Harry was actually a little tough to decide. But given the respect Tokiomi shows Risei Kotomine, even treating him like a surrogate father or grandfather in some regards, it would not be out of the question, I think, for Tokiomi to name his first son after him.**


	16. King of His Heart Chapter 1 V1

**I'm crossposting this in both _The Cauldron_ and _Zelretch's Collection of Alternates_.**

 **Now, this is a story that, frankly, has been quite a while in the making. It's a Harry/Arturia story that I've wanted to do for a long time. Now, I know what you're saying, I already have _Ex Umbra in Solem_ floating around. And that is true. But I've been struggling with that story for a while now, and while it's by no means abandoned, it is, more or less, on hiatus until I can get more inspiration for it.**

 **This isn't my first attempt at another Harry/Arturia story either. Followers of _The Cauldron_ and _Zelretch's Collection of Alternates_ will remember _Non Omnis Moriar_ , inspired by sakurademonalchemist's abortive similar story _Rebirth of Phoenix_. I'm still considering doing a similar story, but this story came out first.**

 **It's a combination of a number of ideas. Aside from _Rebirth of Phoenix_ and _Non Omnis Moriar_ , there's also a story concept taken from DaSalvatore's excellent story _Rebirth of the Founders_ , a story which I highly recommend. Plus, some elements of the story echo my previous story _Gorgon and Thanatos_ , as well as my _Final Fantasy IX_ crossover _Kuja von Einzbern_. I thought it would be fresh because Harry is not aligned with Kiritsugu Emiya, and thus has a different perspective on the Grail War, tempered by his physical youth. Anyway, I hope you enjoy...**

 **EDIT (19/11/18): Yeah, I know, this is probably getting tedious...but after some thought and discussion, I've realised, I don't quite want to do yet another _Fate/Zero_ crossover, not in this way, and the plot after a certain point wasn't working out. So...well, remember how I said this was based on one of Dis Lexic's challenges? Well, the new version will be an actual answer to it. Watch this space...**

* * *

 _ **KING OF HIS HEART (ORIGINAL)  
**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **YET ANOTHER FINE MESS…**

 _"You bastard. You effeminate cambion_ _ **bastard**_ _. Did you know about this? I'll bet you knew_ _ **something.**_ _"_

 _The man with the long face framed by dark hair knelt down next to the body sitting up against the tree. The fools deluded themselves into believing her to be a man, stuck as an eternal youth. But the man knew better. He stroked the cheek of the woman he loved, the woman who chose to become a king because of her bloodline. She could have been sleeping, but he knew better._

 _"Ria…" the man said quietly, tears trickling down from his emerald eyes. "I'm sorry…I should have been here. But Godric and Helga insisted we protect the children, even though I knew just one of them would have been enough. I wish I could have stopped your sister…or at least found a way to stop Mordred. Godric…he never liked bastard children, which is the pot calling the kettle black. I haven't found her corpse. Otherwise, I would have her a proper burial. Bastard or not, traitor or not…I think she deserved that much. She was to be pitied, not hated. But…you didn't even give her that. I'd like to think she's how our daughter might have turned out. Maybe less violent, but certainly as rambunctious, strong-willed, and with a fire Godric would have been proud of."_

 _No reply was forthcoming, and he sagged. "Ria…already they're singing songs about you. They have been for some time, but I know the fucking bards are going to be singing about your glorious final battle…not knowing or caring that so many people have died. That you were once a sweet little girl, cursed by the blood of your father, with a_ _ **destiny**_ _. That you weren't actually happy with Guinevere, not in the way that we were. That I lost you when you pulled Caliburn from the stone. I would give almost anything, even my magic, to have you amongst the living once more, and free from that damned destiny. To be the person I knew you should be. A strong woman, yes, a warrior woman…but not a king. You killed your heart and soul doing that, and mine as well."_

 _He stood, looking down at the corpse of his beloved, noting how the sunlight made her hair look like woven gold. He wished he could see her eyes, emerald like his own. "…Ria…Godric and I had one hell of a row about Merlin. When I made some remark about Merlin being a manipulative cambion, Godric accused me of being a Blood Purist. Stupid hotheaded bastard. Unfortunately, that nephew of mine most certainly is, and is already corrupting the students I've given him to tutor. They're going to be using that incomplete version of Kaleidoscope to take Hogwarts to another world. But…I've had enough. I don't want to teach anymore. I'm not even sure life is worth living now. Not…not without you, Ria." He sobbed quietly and openly._

 _Then, he straightened, getting off the ground and looking at the corpse of the woman he loved. "There's one thing I can do, even if I die trying. I'm going after that bitch of a sister of yours. There were many reasons why that civil war happened, like your style of ruling, that mess with Lancelot and Guinevere, rejecting Mordred as an heir…but in the end, Morgan set fire to the kindling. Helga told me I should be merciful to the defeated…and look where it got us. No. Sal's gone, dead with his sense of mercy. Salazar Slytherin has taken his place. Goodbye…my love…"_

 _And with that, he walked away from that sun-dappled wood, leaving behind the corpse of the Once and Future King, and the woman he loved…_

* * *

It had been a dream that he had had for some time, one he generally only-half-remembered when he woke. Certainly, he never remembered who the man was. The odd thing was, the dreams that haunted him, they felt more like memories than dreams.

His eyes opened rather blearily, to meet a pair of crimson ones with slitted pupils, vaguely cat-like, and certainly looking at him with cat-like curiosity. Said eyes were the only strange feature in the face of a beautiful girl, perhaps in her late teens or early twenties, with blonde hair, wearing a white jumper, and a long dark skirt. "So, you're awake," the girl said, smiling. "You gave me quite the scare, you know. I thought you were one of Grandfather's apprentices."

"…Sorry, what?" he asked. He seemed to be lying on a sofa in a living room.

"Oh, right. Grandfather said you'd be confused. It's not every day that an accidental congruence of different types of magic emulate one of the True Magics," the girl said. "That's what he said, anyway. You dropped right out of thin air in my apartment, along with a corpse and a trophy. It's where I stay whenever I'm not hibernating or hunting down Roa."

"Hibernating? Roa?"

"Right, Grandfather said you probably wouldn't know. He was able to read some of your surface thoughts. Your name is Harry Potter, right?" Harry nodded. "Well, I am Arcueid Brunestud. You can call me Arc if you like."

"…Okay, Arc," Harry said, before he suddenly realised. He'd just seen Voldemort resurrected, Cedric killed, the duel, and then, while escaping, a curse hit the Portkey. Panic surged in his chest, and he tamped it down with an effort. "Your grandfather, is he…is he a wizard?"

"The Wizard Marshall of Clock Tower, actually, and the master of the Second True Magic, Kaleidoscope," Arc said proudly. "He's not actually my grandfather. Harry…I should point something out to you. It's going to be a bit of a shock, so brace yourself. You're not on your version of Earth anymore."

Harry's eyes widened. "…What?"

"Yeah, I know it's hard to believe, but…well, when you've been around my grandfather as long as I have, you have to keep a fairly open mind."

"And who's your grandfather?"

"You probably won't have heard of him. He is Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, though most people call him Zelretch."

The name indeed was unfamiliar to Harry. Instead, he focused on what needed to be done. "Okay, well, Arc…thanks for looking after me, but…I need to find a way to get back home. If what you said is true, then I need to get back. He's back, and nobody knows, and…and…" Panic began welling up in him again. Voldemort was back, he was, if they were telling the truth, stranded on another world.

"Hey, calm down," Arc said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Harry snapped, trying to get off the couch, only to realise that Arc was holding him in place, with a strength her slender form should not have possessed. "He's probably attacking my friends even as we speak, and you're telling me to calm down?! I've had a really bad year, to be honest. No, scratch that, most of my life. So don't tell me to calm down when I have no reason to. And let go of me!" He tried to take her hand away, pulling at her arm as much as he could, only to realise, he couldn't.

"If I wanted to, I could hold you here all day," Arc said, her red eyes peering into his own. "You want me to let you go? _Make me_."

Harry obliged with a Banishing Charm that sent Arc flying, though she landed on her feet, barely missing some furniture. "That was very rude," Arc said rather casually. Suddenly, she seemed to blur out of existence, only for Harry, who had stood up after hitting her with the Banisher, to hear her behind him. "And just remember, _human_ , that it pays to be polite to the White Princess of the True Ancestors. A little bit of friendly advice."

"White Princess of the what?" Harry asked, whirling to find her sitting on the very sofa he had just vacated, looking amused and irritated at the same time.

"Bluntly, I'm a vampire. On this world, there are two types: True Ancestors, and Dead Apostles. True Ancestors are the most powerful kind of vampire, born rather than made, and don't need to drink blood to survive. My grandfather is a Dead Apostle. Unlike most of our kind, we're not predators on humans. Well, not for blood, anyway. My grandfather likes hearing tormented screams from those he pranks, though."

Before Harry could figure out what to say to that, the door opened. "My ears are burning, my dear Arc," a deep, gentle and mirthful voice said. The man whom it belonged to looked elderly, dressed in robes, with a beard, and crimson eyes. However, there was an undeniable sense of power about the man, but also a gentleness and a joviality. He was both alike and yet unalike to Dumbledore.

"…You're Zelretch?" Harry asked.

"Indeed. A pleasure to meet you, Harry Potter."

"I've told him that he's on another world, Grandfather," Arc said. "He's…rather upset. He's worried for his friends."

Zelretch waved his hand dismissively. "Don't be. I am aware in broad strokes of what is happening in your end of the multiverse, Harry. Knowing Voldemort, he will spend months at least gathering his followers to him, months that you can use to get better."

"And how can you know this?" Harry demanded.

"Because, aside from looking through your memories, I am the master of Kaleidoscope, the Second True Magic, one of the only ones still in existence to this day in this world," Zelretch said. "Kaleidoscope deals with parallel worlds, including the viewing thereof, and the travelling between them. In truth, I could get you home very easily. But, and please do not interrupt me, what's the point? As you are now, you would be an irritation to Voldemort. You need to become better and stronger, for the sake of protecting your friends. I can help you there."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "What's the catch? And no, I'm not turning into a vampire or Dead Ancestor or whatever it is."

Zelretch laughed. "No, no…nothing of the sort!" His expression became rather solemn. "But it is dangerous, mortally so. And while I cannot force you to do this, it's quite possible that the fate of the world rests on this. I'd like you, Harry Potter, to take part in the Fourth Holy Grail War…"

* * *

It was some weeks later, and Harry was wondering whether he should have disagreed more vehemently, instead of allowing Zelretch to persuade him. After all, he had already just dealt with one potentially lethal magical tournament. To get involved in another (and voluntarily, even!) seemed like the height of insanity. And yet, here he was, in a park, at midnight, in Fuyuki City in Japan, watching as a dark-haired boy a few years his senior drew out a complex magical ritual circle. " _For the origin, silver and steel. For the cornerstone, gem and the Archduke of Contracts. For the ancestor, my great master Schweinorg_. _The alighted wind becomes a wall. Close the gates in the four directions. From the crown, come forth. Trace the three-forked road leading to the kingdom. Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Repeat fivefold, and when each is filled, destroy it_."

Harry sighed quietly. Waver Velvet was a bit like Hermione, only more egotistical. But in their short acquaintance, they actually managed to get along fairly well. Waver was a student at Clock Tower, the main HQ of the Magus Association as well as their main school. Waver had published a paper that had drawn the ire of Kayneth Archibald, Lord El-Melloi, a haughty man who looked like Lucius Malfoy, only with more brains and a better haircut. Apparently, Waver had posited that a Magus of a less-established family could match the power of a more-established family's Magus through hard work and discipline. Here, magic was generally stronger the longer one's family had been practising it, though Harry noted that there was still a similar elitist snobbery that he despised.

Waver had stolen something from Lord El-Melloi, an ancient scrap of red cloth that apparently belonged to Alexander the Great, aka Iskandar. Harry only learned of this later, when Waver was halfway to Japan, and Zelretch used Kaleidoscope to dump him at Waver's destination. Waver was determined to fight in the Holy Grail War, and Harry, after much persuasion from Zelretch, decided to join too. In the end, he was doing it to try and save lives more than anything else, something that wasn't generally considered by most Magi: as long as they could cover it up, a loss of life was acceptable.

And there was something else, something deep within him, that called on him to do this. A yearning to see someone again, for some weird reason. But still, he knew he was in the deep end here.

Nearly two centuries ago, three of the top Magi family in the world, the von Einzberns, the Makiris and the Tohsakas, pooled their resources to create a tournament that was, theoretically, capable of reviving the Third True Magic, Heaven's Feel. But in order to do so, for some reason, they needed to set things up in a strange way. Basically, there was something called the Holy Grail, not the drinking cup of Jesus Christ, but rather, a magical artifact that could be charged with a specific type of energy. That energy came from the essences of Servants, a type of familiar that was used to battle to the death between these Magi. And not just any familiar, but the revived essence of heroes from myth and history, known as Heroic Spirits. In short, the Holy Grail War was basically a tournament between seven heroes from history and myth, as well as the Magi they were in service to.

Zelretch, with a knowing smile, had given Harry something that, he claimed, 'fell off the back of a lorry heading to the von Einzberns'. It was a beautiful wedge of metal, seemingly made of gold with blue patterns and ancient writing. It was called Avalon, and was allegedly the sheath of the legendary sword Excalibur. The reason for this was that, apparently, your odds of getting a specific Servant increased if you used an artifact associated with their life. Waver was going to go with Iskandar, and Harry, it seemed, was going to get King Arthur.

"Well, I'm ready," Waver said. "I'll go first, okay?"

Harry nodded, and he stood back as Waver began pumping his mana into the magic circle, his hand outstretched. " _Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world, that I shall defeat all evil in the world! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!_ "

There was a massive flare of light, and as it died away, Harry blinked in astonishment. The man who appeared was tall and burly, his skin tanned, his hair a fiery red. He was dressed in Grecian armour with a red, fur-lined cape draped over his shoulders. "Servant Rider has answered your summons. I ask of you," he said in a gravelly rumble of a voice, "are you my Master?"

Waver, who was staring up at his Servant in shock and awe, eventually nodded hastily. "Yes! I'm your Master! Waver Velvet!"

"Hmm. Then the pact is sealed. Though what's this? Another Magus? Is he your associate, or competition?"

Harry glared at the Servant. "I'm Waver's ally, but I will be summoning a Servant of my own. So, would you mind leaving the circle for the moment?"

"Ha! Of course! It'll be interesting to have an ally." The giant of a man strode unhurriedly out of the circle, and Harry handed the scrap of cloth back to Waver, before taking Avalon and placing it down. Then, he began the ritual himself.

And that's when it happened. Even as the circle dissolved into an actinic flare of light, he felt something within his mind burst, like a collapsing dam. And then…he _remembered_.

* * *

Waver's eyes widened as, just as the circle flared, Harry collapsed. Now, Waver hadn't known Harry for all that long, and he wasn't sure whether he could call the sardonic teenager a friend, but to see him collapse to the ground and start convulsing was not good, especially when he vomited. "Harry!" he screamed.

Suddenly, the figure he could barely see within the magic circle dashed out, supporting Harry. It was a girl (or else a VERY androgynous boy), perhaps about Harry's age, with blonde hair framing regally beautiful features. Her emerald eyes, so much like Harry's own, were in concern. She was dressed in what looked like a blue armoured dress, complete with breastplate and gauntlets. Her bearing seemed older than her apparent age suggested.

"What sorcery did you inflict on him?!" the girl demanded.

Waver held his hands up. "We didn't do anything! He was summoning you, and then, suddenly, he just collapsed!"

The girl searched his face for any deceit, before nodding. She then looked at Harry, who was gasping painfully, before his eyes flickered open. "Are you all right, my Master?"

"I feel like dragon shit," Harry rasped, before his eyes widened. "…Ria?" he asked, in a disbelieving tone of voice. He reached out his hand to caress the girl's face. "But…how…oh…that's what they did…Heaven's Feel, in an incomplete form…"

The girl's eyes widened on being called 'Ria'. Then, she seemed to peer closer at Harry. "…Sal? But…how can this be?"

"Ro' would probably know, little swot," Harry said, before scowling. "That fangfaced bastard knew…I'll bet you Arondight that he knew, or suspected. Arturia…you're back…"

Arturia nodded, a sad smile on her features mirroring Harry's own. Somehow, improbably, a reunion had been engineered, across centuries and dimensions. But time would tell whether it would last…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's been inveigled into another magical tournament…but he's Salazar Slytherin? And he knew Arturia? Well, I'm sure many of you will take this as proof I've gone off the deep end.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	17. King of His Heart Chapter 1 V2

**So, you probably missed the announcement on the previous chapter, but I decided that I wasn't going to do _King of His Heart_ that way. There's a few reasons for it, but they can be boiled down to three major factors: I didn't want to do another _Fate/Zero_ crossover, Kiritsugu could potentially curbstomp Harry, even with knowledge of Salazar Slytherin going through Harry's mind, and, well, I wasn't sure where to take the plot after a certain point. So, I decided to go back to Dis Lexic's challenge, and do it based on that. This is basically transplanting Nasuverse versions of characters into the Potterverse, and I did that before with my _Overlord_ crossover _Yield to the Darkness_.**

 **Despite what you may think, this isn't a threeway pairing of Harry/Arturia/Mordred, tempting though it was. Mordred will be paired with someone else. Also, this is not a story for Godric Gryffindor fans. Just saying.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy...**

* * *

 _ **KING OF HIS HEART (REVISED)**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **YET ANOTHER FINE MESS…**

 _"You bastard. You effeminate cambion_ _ **bastard**_ _. Did you know about this? I'll bet you knew_ _ **something.**_ _"_

 _The man with the long face framed by dark hair knelt down next to the body sitting up against the tree. The fools deluded themselves into believing her to be a man, stuck as an eternal youth. But the man knew better. He stroked the cheek of the woman he loved, the woman who chose to become a king because of her bloodline. She could have been sleeping, but he knew better._

 _"Ria…" the man said quietly, tears trickling down from his emerald eyes. "I'm sorry…I should have been here. But Godric…he got in the way. He told me, if he couldn't have you, nobody would. He betrayed you. I wish I could have stopped your sister…or at least found a way to stop Mordred. I haven't found her corpse. Otherwise, I would have given her a proper burial. Bastard or not, traitor or not…I think she deserved that much. She was to be pitied, not hated. But…you didn't even give her that. I'd like to think she's how our daughter might have turned out. Maybe less violent, but certainly as rambunctious, strong-willed, and with a fire you would have been proud of."_

 _No reply was forthcoming, and he sagged. "Ria…already they're singing songs about you. They have been for some time, but I know the fucking bards are going to be singing about your glorious final battle…not knowing or caring that so many people have died. That you were once a sweet little girl, cursed by the blood of your father, with a_ _ **destiny**_ _. That you weren't actually happy with Guinevere, not in the way that we were. That I lost you when you pulled Caliburn from the stone. I would give almost anything, even my magic, to have you amongst the living once more, and free from that damned destiny. To be the person I knew you should be. A strong woman, yes, a warrior woman…but not a king. You killed your heart and soul doing that, and mine as well."_

 _He stood, looking down at the corpse of his beloved, noting how the sunlight made her hair look like woven gold. He wished he could see her eyes, emerald like his own. "…I'm not even sure life is worth living now. Not…not without you, Ria." He sobbed quietly and openly._

 _Then, he straightened, getting off the ground and looking at the corpse of the woman he loved. "There's one thing I can do, even if I die trying. I'm going after that bitch of a sister of yours. There were many reasons why that civil war happened, like your style of ruling, that mess with Lancelot and Guinevere, rejecting Mordred as an heir…but in the end, Morgan set fire to the kindling. Helga told me I should be merciful to the defeated…and look where it got us. And now, look at what Godric did. After Morgana, if I live, he's next. I'm glad we got to meet one last time, when you came to France for Lancelot…that we were able to reconcile…but it doesn't matter anymore. Sal's gone, dead with his sense of mercy. Salazar Slytherin has taken his place. Goodbye…my love…goodbye, Arturia…"_

 _And with that, he walked away from that sun-dappled wood, leaving behind the corpse of the Once and Future King, and the woman he loved…_

* * *

It had been a dream that he had had for some time, ever since the Chamber of Secrets, one he generally never remembered when he woke. Certainly, he never remembered who the man was. The odd thing was, the dreams that haunted him, they felt more like memories than dreams. It was only now, shortly after the horrific end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, that he remembered it. It was like the Cruciatus had dislodged something to do with it.

The night after his escape from the graveyard, he was walking through the corridors of Hogwarts with a renewed purpose, heading to a place he only really knew where to go to. He'd been back to the Chamber of Secrets a number of times since the first time, towards the end of his second year. It was because of something he glimpsed, shortly before he had to take Ginny away. It was something he returned to when he was at his lowest. Not even Hermione knew about this.

After entering the bathroom and activating the entrance, he descended into the Chamber of Secrets, walking through the musty tunnels, until he came to where he defeated the Basilisk. A profound sense of sadness came over him, as it did the last few times he was here. The Basilisk wasn't evil, not truly. It was compelled to follow Voldemort's orders.

Then, he entered the mouth of the statue of Salazar Slytherin…only, he knew that wasn't Salazar's statue now. No, that was one of Salazar's relatives, a Pureblood obsessive who stole Salazar's name and ran it into the mud. Salazar Slytherin was a misanthrope, not a racist. Or at least that's what the dreams claimed. And he could believe it too, somehow.

In his dreams, he saw something different. Slytherin wasn't contemptuous towards Muggleborns, but rather, towards Muggles that organised witch-hunts. He'd been proactive in killing those, something that got him into trouble with the other Founders. He didn't think much of Muggles, true, but he didn't think much of his fellow wizards either. He was more of a general misanthrope, and had been for much of his life. Then again, when you were the bastard offspring of a so-called Pureblood line born when your father raped a Muggle woman, and were treated like dirt by relatives both magical and mundane, it was rather hard not to be. A chief tormentor had been a local bully called Godric.

One of his few friends in the village was a girl with golden hair and eyes as emerald as his own. The foster daughter of Sir Ector, and the adoptive sister of the boy who would become Sir Kay. After they became friends, he'd often call her 'Ria', and she 'Sal'. Godric became jealous of their closeness, and tried multiple times to break them apart, believing that he deserved her more than Salazar. She was the one who kept him out of the darkness he nearly fell into…only to find she had a higher calling. He'd warned her, and so did Merlin, that bloody effeminate cambion troll, that she'd be sacrificing a lot to become king. But she had seen the suffering of the people, mundane and magical alike, and wished to put an end to that.

So dutiful. She pulled Caliburn from the stone. On that day, Ria ceased to be, and the King of the Britons took her place.

His destination was through a door just near the entrance of the tunnel leading out into Slytherin's mouth. He opened it, and then went through. The chamber beyond was vast, lined with a tapestry depicting the life of a warrior in blue, white and silver, with golden hair. However, the flowers lining the walls were new, to his consternation. Someone, he was sure, had been here. Aside from the two other people in the room. Then again, he didn't think they counted, given that they were dead.

Both lay in state on stone biers covered in glass. Both looked similar, to be girls in their mid-teens, about his age. They could have been sisters, with their similar androgynous faces set in gentle repose and golden hair. One was dressed in what could only be called an armoured dress, silver plating over a blue and white dress, gauntleted hands over her chest, clutching at an elaborate, beautiful sword, her hair done up in an elaborate bun. The other was dressed in more aggressive-looking armour, only her visible face betraying her gender, and even then, it was a rather more tomboyish look that could have been a boy's. Her hair was more messy.

At the base of the biers was a stand with an engraving on it. In Parselscript, it said, _Here lieth Arturia Pendragon, the Once and Future King of the Britons, and her child, Mordred Pendragon. One day, in an hour of need for Britain, they shall return_.

"Not that they awoke when William the Conqueror invaded," Harry muttered. "Or when all those wars happened. The Wars of the Roses, the Civil War, World War I and II…not to mention Voldemort."

"You'll note that the inscription says ' _in AN hour of need_ '. In any case, would the people have accepted her returning? After all, she chose to hide her gender when she became King. Even now, in this supposedly enlightened age, people would have trouble accepting that King Arthur was a girl."

The voice was soft, calm and cultured. It could be said that Harry hadn't heard it before…but he had, in his dreams. He looked over to where it came from, to find a tall, elegant man dressed in robes, apparently in his early twenties, with long, messy pale blue hair framing effeminate features.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded. "What are you doing here?"

"I'll answer your questions in reverse," the man said. "I'm not truly here. I am still trapped, as I have been for the past several centuries. At best, I am able to project myself here, use a mere fraction of my power. Perhaps it's for the best. The world is not yet ready for me to re-emerge. The why is related to the what. I feel responsible for the predicament of these two." He walked over to the biers, and tapped the glass cases. Projection or not, his finger made a distinctive chime. "I set Arturia's fate in motion, a fate she would stay the course on until night fell on her life. Mordred was one of the consequences I did not foresee, a puppet dangling on the strings of Morgan le Fay, my foe as well as Arturia's. Both of them deserve happiness…as do you." He looked up at Harry, and gave a sad smile. "As for the whom, well, I think you can take a rough guess, given that I can feel what you once were stirring deep within you."

Harry didn't know what he meant by that, not at first. But then, a name occurred to him, one he whispered in incredulous tones. "…Merlin?"

"Merlin Ambrosius, or Myrddin Emrys, the Magus of Flowers," the man said. "Imprisoned within an enchanted cave by Nimue, influenced by Morgan le Fay. You used to have all these arguments with me, you know. Sadly, one thing you always warned me about came to pass. That I was perhaps too forgiving, a giver of so many chances, and that it would come back to bite me."

"We've never met," Harry said, albeit uncertainly.

"Not in this life. In a way, Voldemort's resurrection has helped weaken my bonds. Enough so that I can help nudge things here and there. I have just enough power now to bring them back to life. Oh, they're not dead. Merely sleeping. It's like an ultra-potent form of the Draught of Living Death, one that will keep them on the knife-edge between life and death. But with the power that I can channel into them, they will wake, their injuries healed. And I can also break through the block on your memories. Once that has been accomplished…you'll know where to find Avalon and Excalibur. You'll need them in the time to come."

Suddenly, Merlin waved his hands over the glass coffins on the biers, and they shattered into scintillating motes of dust, which themselves faded into the air. There was twin ragged gasps from the two figures on the biers. But Harry barely registered them. Because just as the coffins shattered… he felt something within his mind burst, like a collapsing dam. And then…he _remembered_.

* * *

The last thing Arturia Pendragon remembered was drifting off to sleep after speaking with Bedivere. He had given her a potion, one of the last things Merlin had instructed him to do, apparently, before she slipped into the sleep eternal. She had not been expecting to wake up.

And yet, her eyes had snapped open, and a breath, the first one in over a thousand years, was sucked into her chest. She could hear someone screaming nearby, but she couldn't get up. She couldn't help them. Her limbs were unresponsive, until finally, she managed to sit up, clinging to the sword on her chest. She looked down at it in bemusement. Caliburn? But she thought it had been lost.

"Ugh, my head," grunted a familiar voice. "Okay, where the hell am I? And why do I feel like I've been on a bender rather than being turned into a shish-kebab? Actually, why do I know what a shish-kebab is?"

Arturia turned to look at the source of the voice, and stilled, seeing a face she had only seen briefly, though the armour was unmistakeable. The face like her own, and yet unlike her own, framed by the messy golden hair pulled back. Mutual recognition passed between them, Arturia's face becoming set, while Mordred became set in a snarl of fury. But before they could say anything, they heard another scream. Another brief and silent communication passed between them. The pair of them were knights, and no matter what Mordred's own sins, she also didn't shy away from helping those in trouble.

The pair of them got off their respective biers, and approached the convulsing form. A boy, of about fifteen or sixteen, was thrashing and writhing on the ground, clutching his head. A messy thatch of black hair framing his features, his frame a bit on the scrawny side, and he was dressed in robes. Arturia frowned. She was getting a familiar feeling from him, even as she hastened to his side, as did Mordred. Then, suddenly, a scar on the boy's forehead burst open, and black gunk spat out, with a shade, outlined in black smoke, fleeing from it, wailing as it dissipated.

Eventually, the boy stopped convulsing and spasming. Instead, he lay on the floor, panting painfully, and finally, Arturia got a good look at his features. And stared. "Impossible…"

"Whaddya mean, impossible?" Mordred peered at him, before her eyes widened. "What the actual hell? He looks a little different but…that can't be him, can it? He was all middle-aged and crap when I saw him last."

Arturia bit off a retort, just as emerald eyes flickered open behind glasses. Then, painfully, disbelievingly, he rasped, "…Ria?" His eyes then flickered over to Mordred. "Mordred?"

Arturia, hardly believing it herself, whispered, "Sal? But…how can this be?"

"Ro' would probably know, little swot," the boy who was Salazar Slytherin reborn said, before scowling. "Or that damned cambion troll. You're back…you're both back…" He got to his feet and drew them both into a hug, not seeming to care that neither knight wanted to be in close proximity to the other…and yet, after a moment, neither did they. . Somehow, improbably, a reunion had been engineered, across centuries and dimensions. But time would tell whether it would last…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Harry's Salazar Slytherin? And he knew Arturia and Mordred? Well, I'm sure many of you will take this as proof I've gone off the deep end.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	18. King of His Heart Chapter 2 V2

**I'm gratified at the reception this version got, and I'm glad that changing the concept seems to have been the right choice for this story. Hopefully, we can see a full version being published. Hell, maybe I might keep a full version aside as a Christmas present for you guys.**

 **Now, while this is mostly Nasuverse characters transplanted into the Potterverse, I may yet bring a few Nasuverse concepts into it, like Heroic Spirits. The Grail Wars never took place though...but maybe we could see Arturia having an unwelcome reunion with one of her old friends, a la _Fate/Zero_...**

 **In case you're wondering why Arturia and Mordred are a bit OOC, well, the latter is, admittedly, because I am yet to watch _Fate/Apocrypha_ , beyond some videos on YouTube. The reason why Mordred even tolerates Harry/Salazar calling her a girl is that, during their meetings in Arthurian times, Salazar managed to reassure her that he didn't think her any less a warrior. To Salazar, Mordred was the closest thing he had to a daughter or a neice, though they weren't on very close terms. However, they were close enough that Harry/Salazar regrets her death, and blames Morgan for the civil war than Mordred herself. Arturia is a little OOC because, well, one, it's her oldest friend she is talking to, so she's relaxed a little, and two, she knows that Camelot has fallen, and there's little she can do about it (because, well, no Holy Grail to give her a time travel Macguffin). She's also relaxing a little in her attitude towards Mordred. She's still angry at Mordred, but she also has enough self-control to realise other parts of the problem. Oh, she and Mordred will have a major row later, as will she and Harry...but things will work out. For now, she's at least acknowledging Mordred as her child openly**

 **Also, that little bit at the end, with Merlin's 'prank'? That comes from Dis Lexic's challenge. I very nearly didn't put it in, but decided, what the hell.**

* * *

 _ **KING OF HIS HEART (REVISED)**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **REUNION**

Harry…yes, that's all he could think of himself as. He'd spent admittedly less years alive as Harry Potter than as Salazar Slytherin, but it was enough for his identity as Harry to solidify. His memories of being Salazar Slytherin only added to the sum totality of him. Then again, in many ways, they were more alike than they cared to imagine.

The part of him that was Harry Potter found it astonishing that much of what the history books said about Slytherin was false, or at least exaggerated. True, Salazar Slytherin hated Muggles, but then again, he hated wizards as well. He was mostly a misanthrope who made exceptions to the rule. . Then again, when you were the bastard offspring of a so-called Pureblood line born when your father raped a Muggle woman, and were treated like dirt by relatives both magical and mundane, it was rather hard not to be. Especially when you were bullied by a boy by the name of Godric Gryffindor, who himself had been orphaned by the Slytherin line.

One of his few friends in the village was a girl with golden hair and eyes as emerald as his own. The foster daughter of Sir Ector, and the adoptive sister of the boy who would become Sir Kay. Arturia, she was called. After they became friends, he'd often call her 'Ria', and she 'Sal'. She was the one who kept him out of the darkness he nearly fell into…only to find she had a higher calling. He'd warned her, and so did Merlin, that bloody effeminate cambion troll, that she'd be sacrificing a lot to become king. But she had seen the suffering of the people, mundane and magical alike, and wished to put an end to that.

So dutiful. She pulled Caliburn from the stone. On that day, Ria ceased to be, and King Arthur took her place.

He admired her from afar, and while he never became a fixture at Camelot, they met at times. He was one of the few whom she allowed any cracks in that façade of perfection to show. He'd advised her to not to show that ridiculous perfection, the one that might alienate her subjects, but she refused. And then, the rows. The last one, where accusations had been made of Salazar murdering one of her trusted knights, was the last straw. Arturia had been forced to exile him to save face, even though she knew that Salazar would never had done such a thing. At the time, Salazar suspected Morgan le Fay to be responsible for that. In truth, it had been Godric Gryffindor.

And then, the civil war caused by Mordred, with her mother, Morgan Le Fay, pulling the strings. Mordred, who only wanted to be acknowledged as worthy, but Arturia, knowing Mordred would not be a good king, refused her time and again. Sal had met Mordred on several occasions, and knew that Mordred had no real malice, just an ambition, a desire to be noticed, acknowledged, and, Sal was sure, loved. And had Arturia been any more flexible, she could have at least returned it. She never hated Mordred, but she never showed her the warmth her daughter desired, the acknowledgement, beyond Mordred's skill as a warrior.

And then, he was pleaded with to return. And he did so, only for Godric to intercept them, killing the knights and mages with him, and declaring that Salazar would never have Arturia, for Arturia was Godric's, and his alone, and if he couldn't have her, then nobody would.

That battle between them never made it into the songs or history books. They said Salazar merely slunk off in cowardly disgrace over blood purity. How ludicrous.

Even now, he wasn't in full command of his memories, to say nothing of his abilities. Only some memories stood out, and some of the spells he remembered, he knew he wasn't quite powerful enough to use them. His magic needed more training first.

Still, it was good to see her again. And not just Arturia, but Mordred as well. Okay, Mordred tried to kill Arturia (and certainly landed a mortal blow), but Mordred was a tool of Morgan.

"So, where are we, anyway?" Mordred asked, wrinkling her nose as she peered out into the darkness beyond the chamber. "Smells like something the Kneazle dragged in and pissed all over."

"My little secret lair beneath Hogwarts," Harry said. "The Chamber of Secrets. Only my line hijacked it. Frankly, I don't know how you two ended up here in the first place."

He looked over at Arturia, and gave her a sad smile, one she returned. That little tuft of golden hair sprouting from her noggin like an insect's antenna. He remembered teasing her about it, while she just teased him about his unruly hair. It was so wonderful to see her actually looking human, instead of that stern, kingly demeanour. "You've changed, Sal," she said. "You're young again…and yet your eyes…"

"It's a long story, Ria. The last memory I have of you is of your corpse. I managed to arrive just as Bedivere was leaving. He told me. I'd wished I had dabbled in the same sort of arts the rest of my accursed family had in, if it meant bringing you back. So, instead, I went after Morgan."

"…You killed her," Arturia said. It wasn't a question.

"Not before torturing her. The irony is, she killed me with a Basilisk she had tamed. But before I died, I used the cursed flames of Fiendfyre."

"Whoa-ho! Hardcore stuff right there, Salazar!" Mordred chuckled. "Still, couldn't have happened to a nicer person. I mean…I realised Mum was playing me…but by the time I did, I didn't care anymore."

"And what of the people of Britain?" Arturia asked archly.

"Hey, don't you start, Father! Or do you need reminding? ' _The King does not understand human feelings_ '," Mordred quoted mockingly, her teeth bared in a snarl.

Before the argument could get anywhere, Harry snapped, "Oi! Stop that. I would've thought you two would be satisfied with your mutual kill at Camlann. You're not here to continue that! Anyway, it's been centuries since Camlann. Britain's still around."

"And what of Camelot?" Arturia asked.

"Lost to the ages. Or maybe it's under a Fidelius," Harry said. "Merlin, or a projection of him, was here just before you two awoke…and I regained myself. He said that, once you two awoke, he said I'd know where Excalibur and Avalon were. I presume he meant the sheath of Excalibur, not the isle of Avalon." He frowned. "Then again, I vaguely recall Avalon being associated with Glastonbury Tor. Maybe we should go there first. Well, we need to find a way to explain you two to the other students here. We'd need clothes. And I know what you're thinking, Mordred. I've seen what you wear under your armour. Even these days, it's considered a bit scandalous."

Mordred scoffed, her armour fading away in a flare of light to reveal…well, somewhat revealing clothes for a girl in her mid-teens. Basically, it amounted to little more than a strapless sports bra, sleeves, leggings and a vaguely skirt-like assortment of cloths. "Not for a man," Mordred retorted.

"Look, Mordred, we've been over this. You're a young woman." He matched Mordred's automatic glare with an unimpressed look. "People are either going to stare, or want you. And they're going to call you a woman anyway, including some good friends of mine. This is an age where, theoretically, women can be warriors and not be looked down upon. Anyway, you know I didn't give a damn about Ria or you being women knights."

Mordred, after a moment, clicked her tongue. "You're lucky I liked you, Salazar. Anyone else said that crap to me, and I would have unmanned them."

"This isn't the Dark Ages anymore. Impromptu castrations are generally frowned upon these days in civilised society," Harry snarked.

"Even of rapists?" Mordred asked.

"Sadly, yes. I won't say no, though, only just you be discreet."

"Sal, don't encourage Mordred's bad habits," Arturia said with a sigh, dispelling the armoured part of her dress for now.

"Oh, wow, is Father actually trying to live up to the name?" Mordred asked, crossing her arms. "It's…how many centuries since Camlann again? So it's a bit late for you to start being a _parent!_ " She shook her head in disgust. "Okay, so I'll dress in other clothes for now."

"Hmm…Dobby!" Harry called out. Dobby appeared, and stared at the two girls…well, one girl, and a woman with the body of a teenaged girl. "Dobby…these two are Arturia and Mordred. Now…I need some Hogwarts uniforms in their sizes. And that doesn't mean stealing it from others."

Dobby's eyes widened. "The Once and Twice King, and his son…her daughter?" Mordred growled at the House Elf.

However, Arturia knelt down, and smiled at the House Elf. "One of the Fae's servitors," she mused. "Well met, Dobby. Would you kindly get my child and I some suitable clothes?"

"Dobby will do that, Miss Arty!" nodded the House Elf eagerly. "Oh, and by the way, congratulations!"

As the House Elf disappeared, Arturia frowned. "Congratulations? What do you think he meant by that?"

"Whatever. You know, that's the first time you've ever really called me your child," Mordred said.

"And? I never disavowed you as my child, Mordred, only as my heir."

Harry interposed himself between Mordred and Arturia. "Mordred, Ria…please. Do you want to spend your new life bickering? Seriously, things must've gone very badly wrong if I'm meant to be the peacemaker."

This had Arturia smiling a little wryly. "…Yes. I remember the rows you had with almost everyone. I remember you threatening Sir Ector, intending to, and I quote, ' _shove your sword where the sun doesn't shine_ ', when you were arguing about the reputation of Queen Boudicca."

"Whereupon he promptly whacked me with the flat of his sword and said, ' _Uppity punk, I'd love to see you try!_ '," Harry said with a rueful smile. "He was an arse, but he at least treated me better than half the people there. A wizard and a bastard and a Slytherin. Three strikes against me."

"…And this life?"" Arturia asked quietly.

Harry stilled, and then looked at Arturia, weariness in his emerald eyes. "I was orphaned thanks to a deranged Blood Supremacist warlock calling himself Voldemort who claimed to be the heir of Slytherin, just because he was a Parselmouth. He's also a Halfblood, not a Pureblood. My Muggle relatives treated me like a live-in servant, making my bedroom a small boot cupboard. Half the time, the British wizards can't make up their tiny little minds as to whether I'm Merlin's second coming, or Slytherin's. And I mean that damned nephew who stole my name. I'm a celebrity for something my mother in this life probably died doing. At least you chose to remove Caliburn from the stone, Ria."

Arturia looked down to her sword in her hand. While Excalibur was her most famous sword, Caliburn, the Sword in the Stone, was her preferred sword, albeit for sentimental reasons. Unfortunately, it had been lost during one battle. Some legends claimed it had been shattered, and yet, here it was.

"So…what do we do about this Voldemort?" Mordred asked.

"Step One: Find Excalibur, Avalon and/or Avalon. Step Two: I dunno yet. Step Three…"

"Profit?" Mordred asked.

"No, we deal with Voldemort for once and for all," Harry said. "Still…that's something I should be grateful to my memories of my past life. I'd bet he made Horcruxes. That diary was probably one of them," he mused out loud. "Then again, Excalibur's full blast could burn through the links he has to the Horcruxes."

"Horcruxes?" Mordred asked.

"Merlin spoke to me of them once," Arturia said with a scowl. "They are a type of phylactery, a receptacle for one's soul in order to ensure immortality…except you fracture it via the vilest of magical rituals combined with cold-blooded murder. Herpo the Foul was rumoured to be one of the first to create them, if not their originator."

Mordred stared at her 'father' incredulously. "…Seriously? Some morons go so far as to split their soul to be immortal? I don't think even Mother went that far." She looked down at her own sword. "I wonder if my sword would be enough to do the same. Still…it would be more than enough to deal with any pathetic warlocks of this age." Then, her green eyes caught a glimpse of something she hadn't noticed on Harry's hand. "Hey…Salazar, did you get wed in this life or not? Only, I'm pretty sure a ring should only be there if you're wed."

Harry looked at his hand startled. Sure enough, there was a simple ring. On his ring finger. And then, on an impulse, he looked at Arturia's hand, now uncovered by gauntlets…and saw a similar ring. Arturia looked shocked, and Mordred snickered. She then wandered over to a bier, and looked at where her head had been resting. "Hah! There's a letter from Merlin here. Must've left it here when he revived us. _To Mordred, you may read the letter within out loud, because I know you'll enjoy doing so_."

She shrugged, and opened the envelope, cleared her throat, and began speaking. " _To Arturia Pendragon, and Salazar Slytherin, aka Harry Potter. Now, as you have doubtless noticed by now, you each have wedding rings. My doing, I'm afraid. Consider this part of my penance for setting Arturia on the path of the king, and separating you, when in truth, you should have been together. Then again, it's going to be amusing watching your faces when you realise you are now bound in magical matrimony. You're welcome, by the way. An acquaintance by the name of Zelretch suggested this._ "

"…I am going to sodomise him with his own staff," Harry said in a flat tone.

"Hey, there's more, don't interrupt! _On a more serious note…I might be able to free myself soon. I hope. Voldemort, I fear, is far from your only serious foe. Harry, Arturia…I hope you two find the happiness in this life that you never could all those centuries ago. And the same goes for you, Mordred. Yours sincerely, Merlin Ambrosius._ "

"… _Sideways_ ," Harry added. "I mean…it's not that I don't want to be with you, Ria, but…"

"I understand. Merlin has taken a major liberty," Arturia said, with considerable understatement. "Still…there are many far worse whom I could be bound to," she added ruefully, looking at the simple ring on her finger. "We'll consider what to do about this later. The hour is late, and while we have slept enough for many lifetimes, fatigue is the enemy."

"Along with hunger, lack of awareness, mosquitoes, pebbles in shoes…" Harry snarked, thinking back to all the little things Arturia would claim to be the enemy. Still, it was good to have her back.

Now, the real problem was, how to explain the pair of them to everyone else?

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **How indeed?**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	19. Knight of Betrayal and Taiga Cub Chap 1

**Now, I know a lot of you are excited for _King of His Heart_ , and that's still in progress, with four chapters down. But...well, this idea grabbed me and wouldn't let go. Dis Lexic gave me permission to post my own challenge, 'A Second Chance for Mordred', which was similar to their 'Awaken the Dragon' challenge, but with Mordred substituted for Arturia. That's more of the background to this story, which also uses my 'Taiga! Taiga!' challenge as a basis. I actually considered doing that challenge as a Harry/Sakura story, before _Hadrian Kotomine_ became more enticing at the time.**

 **Basically, this is a modified version of _Fate/Stay Night: Unlimited Blade Works_ with Taiga aware of magic and being Harry's guardian, as well as Harry and Mordred being thrown in. Now, keep in mind, Harry won't be summoning up a Servant. Of course, just because he won't summon a Servant doesn't mean he won't get involved...or that he won't get one later on.**

 **There's no guarantee that this will get posted as a full story...but it may. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it anyway...**

* * *

 _ **KNIGHT OF BETRAYAL AND TAIGA CUB**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **A CAMELOT KNIGHT IN FUYUKI CITY**

 _He hated it. All the questions and pestering. He wasn't sure what was worst: the cold amorality of the Magi, or the sheeple mentality of wizards. At least Rin and Sakura, he could speak to, not to mention Shirou. He was thankful he could get a Portkey back to Japan, and even more grateful to his…well, he had thought of her as his mother for many years, even though she was only nine years his senior. In any case, she was a better guardian than those relatives who died in that fire seven years ago. She even took the fact that he could use magic in her stride, after the initial shock._

 _Of course, the fact that he was entered into a damned wizarding tournament with a high mortality rate (though not as high as the Grail War, thank Merlin), and even with the danger toned down somewhat, it was meant for bloody students reaching their…NEWTs, as they called the wizarding education for those who reached the end of their school studies. He was caught between Magus and wizard. Wizards could use magic more readily and without gaining the attention of Gaia, most of the time, while Magi's magic was considerably more versatile but harder to use. He could use both, though he favoured the magic of wizards rather than magecraft of the Magi._

 _The attitudes of the two were equally different. While both Magi and wizards were conservative, wizards tended to be complacent and indolent, even stagnant. Magi, by comparison, were more amoral, and tended to take a more scientific approach to magic. Where most wizards might balk at human experimentation, many Magi would do so on the quiet. He had to be grateful that the only Magi he knew weren't anything like that. Then again, his knowledge was restricted to three teenagers about his age, and that damned vampire Zelretch, who had been the one to notify him about the Tri-Wizard Tournament. About how he was under a geas on his original name._

 _Anyway, he'd been wandering the corridors of Hogwarts later that night, unable to get to sleep. That was partly due to jetlag…well, Portkey-lag. Then, there was the Tri-Wizard Tournament and its dangers. And, of course, there was being separated from his mother. He intended to stay only for a short period here, up until the end of the First Task. He'd head back to Japan then, and commute between Japan and Britain for the other Tasks._

 _In any case, Zelretch had given him an intriguing bit of advice…or whatever passed for advice in the infamously trolling vampire. He said to seek out the Room of Requirement, and have it come into being by thinking,_ I seek whatever Merlin left in Hogwarts. _Zelretch had hinted that there was something there that would help him survive the Tri-Wizard Tournament._

 _Maybe it would be a Mystic Code left behind by Merlin, or even a Noble Phantasm. He hoped so. Even if he didn't need something as overpowered as a Noble Phantasm, it would be great to have._

 _He found where Zelretch had claimed the Room of Requirement would be, and paced in front of the wall near that damned painting of trolls being taught to dance, thinking_ I seek whatever Merlin left in Hogwarts. _On the third time he passed in front of it…the wall changed, a door appearing. He went over gingerly, and opened it._

 _The room wasn't what he was expecting. Instead of an arsenal of weapons and magical artifacts, there was a bier, on which a body was lying. An armoured body, clutching a sword. As he walked over, he saw that the person was wearing an intimidating horned helmet. The whole outfit was red where it wasn't metallic. Their hands were crossed over a sword. He resisted the temptation to take it, though, at least until he was sure he could take it without setting off a boobytrap. Plus, as much as Magi tended to be amoral, he felt a bit uneasy about tomb-raiding, which this felt like._

 _A letter was on a lectern nearby. Oddly enough, it was addressed to him. And yet, the letter itself look ancient. He opened it up, and frowned. After it had his name, it went like this_ …

Greetings from the past. The thing about precognition is that it's rather unreliable, especially when one gets far enough into the future. Still, one thing I did see would be your arrival here in this room. I saw your character, and I feel that you are the right person.

You see, the one laying in state in front of your very eyes is one who had a bad lot in life. I believe you may be what they needed, not what they sought. They were said to have died at Camlann, no doubt, but I left instructions with my followers to rescue them.

You both will be good for each other, I believe. During their time here, they have been kept in stasis while their wounds were healed, fuelled by the leylines of Hogwarts. They can teach you how to survive, and you can teach them how to live.

Anyway, best of luck.

Merlin Ambrosius, Magus of Flowers

 _He frowned. Was this all some sort of prank Zelretch had set up? Surely Merlin would not have addressed an envelope to him personally?_

 _Suddenly, there was a gasp from the armoured figure on the bier, and they sat upright. Their helmeted head swivelled around to look at him, and there was a snarl of anger. The figure tried to leap off the bier, only to tumble to the floor in a loud clatter. He was uncertain of what to do at first, but then went over to them, and helped them to their feet. The figure looked at them, and seemed torn between being angry and grateful. "Are you all right?" he asked._

 _"…I'm not sure," the figure said, their voice gruff and rough…and yet being oddly high-pitched for what he expected. "In fact…I didn't expect to wake up." They gently touched his robes. "…Your clothes are weird…where are we?"_

 _"Hogwarts, Scotland."_

 _"Hogwarts? That school founded by those wizards?" The figure then peered at what was on his wrist. "What is that?"_

 _"It's a watch. It tells you what time it is."_

 _"…Can't you use a spell or something? I've never seen anything like it."_

 _"…Well, it's probably been a long time since you've been asleep. I got this letter from, well, Merlin, of all people, and he's been dead or gone for over a thousand years…"_

 _The knight whirled to face him. "Merlin?!" they hissed. "…Wait, did you say dead or gone for over a thousand…years…?"_

 _"…Yeah. I'm…sorry. Look, I know this might be a bit of a shock, but…who are you, anyway?"_

 _"You first," the knight said._

 _"Uhh, all right. I am Harry Fujimura, though I was born Harry Potter."_

 _The knight seemed to absorb this, before nodding. "…Well then, Harry Fujimura, I shall introduce myself." They straightened, and suddenly, their helmet seemed to disassemble itself, folding up and sliding in pieces down the front and back of their armour. And when Harry saw the face beneath, he couldn't help but stare._

 _The face was androgynous, but he realised she was a girl about his age, with a beauty that seemed somewhat wild, untamed. Her beautiful emerald eyes were much like his own, and her messy golden hair was tied back in a ponytail._

 _"I am Mordred, rightful heir of Arthur Pendragon, King of the Britons!" she declared proudly._

* * *

"RAAAGH!"

The roar of Mordred Pendragon as she lunged at Harry with a shinai was a by-now familiar sound in the Fujimura household. And to tell the truth, despite the cacophony, it was a welcome one. Mordred, who went by the name of Artemis Fujimura or 'Art' in public, loved these almost daily sparring sessions, either with Harry or his adoptive mother, Taiga (and he was one of the few people who could call her 'Tiger', albeit not without complaint). Mordred was no _kendoka_ , but she was a brilliant swordfighter forged in the strife-filled times of Arthurian Britain, even if she fought dirty.

And to tell the truth, both Harry and Taiga did too. Taiga had been something of a champion _kendoka_ until she got disqualified from an international kendo competition for, according to her, ' _being too amazing at owning bitches(_ _1)_ '. She taught Harry everything she knew. And Harry was one of the star players at the local high school, Homurahara. Mordred would be better at swordplay, but she was disqualified at her first kendo match for using too many illegal moves, much to her anger.

Of course, there was a difference between kendo, or indeed any kind of fencing, and the swordplay one saw on the battlefield. Mordred had fought in many battles back in Arthurian times, after all. But Harry found her style of fighting refreshing, and he used something similar whenever he sparred with her.

Their friendship, indeed, their love got off to a rocky start. Harry was confused at the fact that Mordred was a girl, and had nearly been attacked for his troubles, given Mordred's issues with her gender. There was also the uneasy feeling he had, being around the infamous Knight of Treachery. It took much of the following couple of months for them to get used to each other, but their friendship had, surprisingly, become strong by the time Christmas of that year rolled around, and he needed a date to the Yule Ball. It took some persuading for Mordred to accept that…though that was mostly because she refused to wear a dress. Oddly enough, a tuxedo was more to her liking, once she was told she had to cover most of her skin.

By the time the Tri-Wizard Tournament ended, and Harry managed to escape from that graveyard (though not before managing a sneak attack on Voldemort while he was monologuing, managing to kill that current body), Harry and Mordred had become firm friends. In truth, he made few in Britain. That Hermione girl, that dotty little blonde Luna, the Weasley Twins and their younger brother…and that was pretty much it. Oh, he now had some family in the form of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, both of whom were now staying at Clock Tower under the protection of Zelretch, due to Sirius being framed, as well as Sirius' relative 'Don't Call Me Nymphadora' Tonks, who was now working for the Enforcers at Clock Tower. Then again, it wasn't like he had many friends here. Aside from the three young Magi, he could count Issei Ryuudou as a friend, and that was it.

Harry was broken from his musings, and thus being distracted, when he his guard was knocked aside by Mordred, who knocked him to the ground. "Hey, quit your woolgathering, Harry!" she snapped. "I want a decent bout, not a curbstomping!"

"Sorry, Mordred," Harry said, getting up. "I was just thinking about when we first met, and how it could've been worse."

"Whaddya mean?"

"Like when Shinji made the mistake of hitting on you, and when you refused, he said you were too mannish, despite the fact you didn't have the equipment."

Mordred laughed. "And I told that blue-haired prick I would remove _his_ equipment…if I could find a blade small enough. Seriously…had to give him some percussive maintenance to get him to keep his hands off Sakura, especially when she and the idiot started dating."

"Mordred, Shirou's not an idiot. He's just…singleminded."

"That's one way of putting it. Seriously, he didn't know how to use his magic circuits properly until you and Sakura got him to get his act together. I wanna exhume that idiot of a father of his and bugger him with Blood Clarent Arthur for teaching him to do it that way."

Taiga, who'd been looking on, scowled, crossing her arms. The ditzy woman with light brown hair cut short was actually in a relationship with Remus Lupin, and didn't care that he was a werewolf. Lupin was currently working at Clock Tower with Zelretch to try and gain Sirius' freedom. "Mordred, the Kiritsugu I knew was a good man. I don't care what Rin or those weirdoes in Clock Tower claim. So you won't be doing any buggery of Kiritsugu's corpse, with your sword or otherwise!" She closed her eyes and sighed. "That being said, I hope what's been happening lately isn't a sign of things to come. All those murders, gas leaks…that doesn't sound good. We had all those killings ten years ago by that nutjob."

"Yeah, Rin mentioned him," Harry said. "The Master of Caster. They later identified him as Ryuunosuke Uryu."

"Well, that was a scary time, and I didn't even know half of that stuff was caused by Magi doing their thing for a magical cup," Taiga said. "I didn't even realise that shrimp Waver was one, and that big burly guy was Alexander the Great! I would've asked him for an autograph, otherwise. I hope it's not happening again."

"If it is, it's way too soon. It's meant to happen every sixty years, not ten. And Zelretch hasn't said anything yet. Neither has Waver. Then again, Zelretch would probably not tell me just for shits and giggles, and Waver's probably busy. If there is a Grail War, Rin's sure to be a Master, given that she's the only Tohsaka…unless the Grail decides it would be funny to choose Sakura as a Tohsaka Master rather than a Matou."

"Nothing funny about this," Taiga said with a scowl. "Anyway, we'd better have a shower before we head over to Shirou's for dinner…"

* * *

Mordred's identity was actually a secret, even to Harry's friends here, save for Sakura. Oh, Shirou and Rin knew that 'Art' was not her real name, and that she was more than what she seemed, but made up their own conclusions. Rin guessed correctly (albeit for the wrong reasons) that 'Art' was a Homunculus Harry had obtained in Britain. Shirou had an impression that 'Art' was part of some secret knightly order.

Sakura, however, had learned of Mordred's identity when Mordred spoke to her, having the closest thing the tomboyish knight could have to girl talk. It was after the incident with Shinji, and Harry was concerned for Sakura. They'd even learned about her Uncle Kariya being the Master of Berserker, who apparently may very well have been Sir Lancelot, of all people. Mordred may not have had as shitty a childhood as Sakura (and they were yet to realise how shitty it really was), but she could be there for the shy, introverted girl.

Harry, Mordred and Taiga used Apparition, courtesy of Harry, to get most of the way there, with a Bounded Field set up by Kiritsugu preventing Apparition directly into the Emiya Household. They appeared with a muted whipcrack-like noise, just in time for them to be in an alleyway near Shirou, who leapt into the air at the noise. "Whoa!" he yelped, hurrying over. "Hey, you guys…you scared me!"

"Sorry, Shirou," Harry said, as he and his mother, along with Mordred, hurried over and joined him.

"So, what's on the menu tonight?" Mordred asked.

"I think Sakura's already made a start on it," Shirou said. "Seriously, though, I dunno how you can pack away that much."

"And as I keep telling you, I got my metabolism from my father," Mordred said. "Anyway, I'm a growing girl."

She was. While she remained relatively understated in the bust area, she had filled out a little more in the years since Harry found her, not to mention growing a little in height. Then again, most of her appetite was due to her oversized magic core: while she couldn't use most magic, she had enough to use for Reinforcement, the Mana Burst, as well as swapping in her sword Blood Clarent Arthur and her armour Secret of Pedigree. She may not have been at the level of a Heroic Spirit, but she could break human limits and approach that level if need be.

They walked down the street in silence, only for the quartet to pause when they saw someone in the road approaching them. To Shirou, Taiga and Mordred, she seemed merely like an oddity. A girl of perhaps 12 at most, dressed in heavy winter clothing, with an ushanka on top. Her hair was as pale as her skin, and her eyes an eerie ruby red. She could have been an albino.

But Harry had this bad feeling. He knew albino looks were the hallmarks of Homunculi created by the von Einzberns. And that smile didn't bode well.

As she passed them, Taiga said, "You know, it's a bit late for a kid your age to be wandering around alone."

The girl seemed nonplussed briefly, before she passed them. She called out from behind them, "You know, big brother, if you don't summon it soon, you'll come to a sticky end."

The four of them whirled, but the girl had somehow vanished. "…That was ominous," Harry said, with considerable understatement.

"What did she mean by that?" Shirou asked.

"…It means, Shirou, that we'll need to make some phone calls when we get to your place," Harry said grimly. "Because we're in very big trouble. The Fifth Holy Grail War has begun…and it seems that the von Einzberns have an axe to grind against you…"

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Mordred and Harry, of all people, are together. We'll be alluding to events that happened earlier in their relationship, with maybe an occasional flashback. However, this version of events will be largely based on the** ** _Unlimited Blade Works_** **route, albeit with Shirou shacking up with Sakura rather than Rin, as they already have a relationship going. In fact, the first half of the events will be broadly similar…but once we get to the second half of the series, well, things will start to be derailed.**

 **1\. This was based on Taiga's boast in** ** _The Bae Cometh_** **, Episode 1 (but not the first episode) of Project Mouthwash's** ** _Fate/Stay Night: Unlimited Blade Works Abridged_** **. It sounds exactly like the sort of thing Taiga would say when drunk.**


	20. Knight of Betrayal and Taiga Cub Chap 2

**Well, thanks for the feedback. Hopefully, you'll enjoy this next chapter. As of posting this, I'm four chapters into this story. Hopefully, this, and/or _King of His Heart_ , will be posted as full stories come Christmas. Or sooner.**

* * *

 _ **KNIGHT OF BETRAYAL AND TAIGA CUB**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **EYE OF THE TAIGA**

Taiga Fujimura could not be said to be stupid. Ditzy, scatterbrained and impulsive, but not stupid. One couldn't be stupid and become an English teacher in Japan. Well, unless you were like her and had friends in high or low places…or a grandfather in charge of the local Yakuza gang. Then again, Taiga had very little involvement with her grandfather's organisation, and preferred to earn her way.

The only time she asked for her grandfather's help was in important matters that, while unrelated to criminal doings, sometimes needed some smoothing over. Like when it came to adopting Harry. That admittedly had been an impulse she followed when she found him on the streets. He'd run away from his relatives, who had been killed when their hotel burned down during the Fuyuki Fire. She didn't raise him full-time until after she graduated high school, and even then needed babysitters for the times when she did her English teaching degree. Well, babysitter, anyway. Until he died, as long as he wasn't on one of those trips overseas he did, Kiritsugu generally babysat Harry willingly. Plus, he was the one who helped her learn English in the first place.

It was only shortly before Kiritsugu died that Taiga learned the truth about Harry, Kiritsugu and Shirou: that they could use magic, that magic actually existed in this world. Of course, Kiritsugu never admitted he was infamous as the Magus Killer. That was something Taiga only learned much later.

That being said, she loved Harry with all her heart. When she first met him, she knew she couldn't bear to leave him on the streets. Discreet enquiries had been made about his family, aside from the relatives who perished in the Fuyuki Fire. His parents were apparently dead, and he had been left with his maternal aunt. His closest remaining relative was the sister of his uncle, a rather unpleasant bitch by the name of Marjorie Dursley, who had sneered at taking in the child. And Taiga, despite her ditziness, recognised signs of abuse on Harry.

Anyway, Taiga was surprised when some pompous POS from the Japanese Ministry of Magic turned up. Her adopted son was a wizard, and famous for surviving an instant death curse nobody else had. Then, a couple of old geezers turned up. One was some Merlin-wannabe with a beard called Dumbledore, and didn't she whack him over the head with the Tiger Shinai when she learned he was responsible for leaving Harry with those bastards? The other turned out to be a vampire, or Dead Apostle, or whatever the hell they called them, by the name of Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg. Oddly enough, Taiga liked him more than Dumbledore, though to give the old goat credit, Dumbledore didn't think the Dursleys would be abusive. However, Dumbledore did agree that he would not pressure Harry to attend Hogwarts.

Though that stupid Tri-Wizard Tournament threw a spanner into that particular works. Harry went as Clock Tower's representative, though, albeit on Zelretch's request: Harry liked Magi less than wizards, but he liked Zelretch, and liked to prank them.

Taiga had joked about Harry looking out for hussies looking to sink their claws into him because of his fame in Britain. To her surprise, he actually came back to Japan with a girl in tow…only, said girl was Mordred Pendragon, of all people! Then again, by this point, she had heard about the Holy Grail War, thanks to an offhand comment by Zelretch while they were discussing the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Taiga had grilled the vampire, and learned, to her astonishment and horror and, well, even delight, that Fuyuki had seen the presence of heroes from myth and history. She remembered meeting Waver (and apparently the weedy little brat was some magical lord now, Lord El-Melloi II, if she recalled correctly) and that big burly guy whom, she learned later, was actually Alexander the Great. She had met one of the most famous figures from history and didn't even know it. And now, she'd met another. Hell, she was living under the same roof.

Mordred was nothing like you expected from the infamous knight who rebelled against Arthur. Gender aside (and Taiga knew why she was so touchy: after the fall of the various Celtic tribes, warrior women went into a decline in Britain, and concealing her gender was probably wise to avoid censure, or worse), she didn't seem malicious. If anything, she seemed like a child starved of affection and affirmation and, most importantly, acceptance. Morgan le Fay used her as a living weapon, and Arthur was a cold, distant and aloof figure, inhuman in many regards.

Mordred certainly had a hot temper one might have expected from her legend, but she was surprisingly compassionate too. And certainly passionate. At times, she'd caught them making out, and even saw them start at times. Mordred was certainly the initiator of such things. She just hoped she wasn't going to be a grandmother yet.

Still, hearing Harry and Mordred explain the Holy Grail War, in brief, to Shirou was disturbing. Supposedly, just under two centuries ago, three Magus families collaborated to create a specialised ritual, designed to recreate one of the True Magics. The von Einzberns of Germany, the Makiris of Russia, and the Tohsakas of Japan wanted to find a way to reach the Root, aka Akasha, and also bring back the Third True Magic, Heaven's Feel. Taiga didn't quite understand the explanation Zelretch gave her, despite him being one of those who collaborated with those three families.

Anyway, given that the three families were still somewhat wary of sharing, a system was proposed to fight in a tournament to determine who was most worthy of gaining the Grail. She personally thought that the Magi just wanted to do cool shit in the process, because why else would you have a system where long-dead heroes from myth and history were brought back as familiars to fight? Anyway, apparently, once six of the seven Servants fell in battle, the Grail would grant any wish the victorious Servant and their Master desired.

Now, while Taiga would love something like any wish, she also was a bit wary. She'd read stories where wishes could be perverted into something bad. Not to mention that killing the Masters, who anchored the Servants to the world with their magic, was an unspoken rule, though Masters who'd lost their Servants could apparently take sanctuary in a church.

And there was, of course, the collateral damage. Most people in the know believed that the Fuyuki Fire was caused by something going wrong with the Grail, though as there were no known eyewitnesses to it (that were still alive, anyway), nobody knew why. The only person who could have shed light on the matter was Kiritsugu himself, and he died five years ago. Apparently he was the Master of a Saber Servant. In fact, his Servant was none other than King Arthur. Who, apparently, was a woman, like Mordred. It was Waver who told them this. Taiga wasn't sure she wanted to know exactly how Mordred was conceived, or indeed any of Arthur's children.

She watched as Shirou absorbed this, while Sakura bustled about, quietly, not quite meeting anyone's eyes. "…This is heavy," Shirou said, with considerable understatement.

"Scared?" Mordred asked in a mocking tone, before her emerald eyes narrowed sharply. "You should be. I fought alongside and against the sort of people who'd become Heroic Spirits. Even without the boost the summoning and new body gives to Servants, many are beyond human limits today."

Oddly enough, her proclamation wasn't hampered by her apparel. Mordred, when dressing casually, favoured a small tube top and daisy duke jean shorts that only served to show off more of her figure than Taiga liked. Her main concession to modesty was a leather jacket over this. Even in winter, she preferred dressing like this. Actually, she wouldn't have looked out of place in Raiga's yakuza gang, Taiga reckoned, though the one time one of her grandfather's men tried to get fresh with Mordred…well, Raiga refused to pay the man's hospital bill.

"Waver told me of some of the Heroic Spirits in the last Grail War," Harry said. "He had Alexander the Great, aka Iskandar, as Rider. Your father apparently had King Arthur, or Arturia Pendragon as Saber. Waver's teacher and the Lord El-Melloi before him, Kayneth Archibald, had Diarmuid of the Love Spot as a Lancer. And apparently Tokiomi Tohsaka had Gilgamesh of Uruk as an Archer."

"…I know of King Arthur and Alexander the Great, but not the other two," Shirou said. "I mean, I've heard of Gilgamesh from the _Final Fantasy_ games, but I'm guessing he's different."

"Diarmuid was an Irish hero," Taiga said, having read up on this. Indeed, she'd been doing some reading of famous myths and legends. "He famously had an affair with the wife of his liege lord, though to be fair to him, she had put a geas on him to run away with him. She'd been infatuated by his looks, including a love spot. Anyway, afterwards, his liege lord supposedly forgave him, but deliberately allowed him to die after Diarmuid was gored by a boar. As for Gilgamesh, many scholars believe his story to be the first ever story recorded by mankind, or at least the oldest surviving. He was a hero and king of Babylon, though he wasn't a particularly nice sort. Well, save to his friend, the beastman Enkidu."

"My Uncle Kariya summoned Berserker," Sakura said quietly, her admission sounding painful.

"I hope it doesn't choose you," Harry said, looking at Sakura. The gentle and shy girl didn't have it in her to be a fighter. She could endure, but she couldn't fight. The problem was, the Matou line were pumping out the Magi equivalent of Squibs, and apparently, the only ones with any magical ability were Sakura and her grandfather, though there may be others. Apparently the Grail invariably chose Masters from the three Founding Families…and Taiga was horrified at the thought that teenaged children might be chosen to participate.

Until a horrifying thought occurred to her. "…Harry, that girl…you said she was the von Einzbern Master, right? Did they really send a little girl to fight?"

"Maybe," Harry said, "but that's the scary thing. Homunculi have weird growth patterns. She could be an adult for all we know, and adult-looking Homunculi could be only a few years, even months, old. Anyway, Homunculi are to magecraft what a genetically-engineered human would be to science. If she is a Master, she probably has a lot of magic circuits. So just because she's a shrimp doesn't mean she's not dangerous. Plus…well, according to Waver, apparently Kiritsugu Emiya worked for the von Einzberns during the last Grail War. They probably took his failure personally, as I think that girl's warning was also a threat. Magi are petty, and stuff like the Grail War are used to settle old disputes."

"…She wants to kill Shirou?" Taiga said with a flat, dangerous tone. Most of the time, when Taiga got angry, she got loud and boisterous. But when she truly got angry, she got quiet.

"Maybe," Harry said. "But she's not the only problem. If the Holy Grail War really is happening earlier than anyone thought…then that puts recent events into a scary context. Remember, there have been recent killings with either a spear or a sword, meaning a Saber or a Lancer, or even an Assassin. In addition, those gas leaks…they could be magecraft. Magecraft that saps a person's essence to fuel a Servant."

Shirou frowned. "I thought those gas leaks seemed to be happening too often. But…I don't even want the Grail. I don't even know how to summon a Heroic Spirit!"

"And I don't want you getting drawn into this, Shirou!" Taiga snapped. "Kids shouldn't be fighting a damn war! It was hard enough watching Harry face down a _dragon_ of all things, going diving in an ice-cold lake, and then he got _kidnapped!_ All in one tournament! Ugh, that snake-faced bastard should be glad my Harry got the drop on him, or else I would have made him wish for death once I was through with him!" Taiga frowned. "Actually, what happened to Voldemort, anyway?"

"…Well, let's just say that I'm glad that Zelretch made a Mystic Code like the ghost trap from _Ghostbusters_ and gave it to me shortly before the Third Task," Harry said(1).

Mordred snorted in amusement. "Apparently the damned vampire is torturing Voldemort's shade with cheesy children's songs whenever he ain't experimenting upon him and the Horcruxes. According to Zelretch, Voldemort is actually begging for death. Quite a change from a guy who was afraid of death. Anyway, Shirou, if you and/or Sakura get roped into this, we'll do what we can to protect you."

"Thanks, Art," Shirou said quietly. "What if you or Harry get chosen by the Grail?"

"Oi, we're friends," Mordred said sharply. "Even if it's an unspoken rule for Masters to off each other, I wouldn't do that. Besides, Taiga'd never forgive me. Not to mention the both of you are as good cooks as Harry here. One thing you never did back home was go for the cooks…"

* * *

The discussion, thankfully, went into less heavy subject matter, and after dinner was finished, they intended to head back home. Sakura accepted the offer of being Apparated to close to the Matou manor, given how late it was. However, tomorrow morning, Harry was going to cook for his mother and Mordred, while Sakura and Shirou would have their own breakfast at Shirou's place.

When Harry used Apparition to bring them back to their home, a young woman in a white jumper and a long skirt leapt into the air at the noise. "Harry! Don't do that!" snapped the woman.

"Sorry, Arc. Actually, what are you doing in Fuyuki?"

"Grandfather sent me. I was in Japan for other reasons, but he decided to have me act as a courier," the young woman said, rubbing at her head.

Taiga knew this young woman was actually far older than she looked. Blonde hair framed beautiful, regal but gentle features, with only her crimson eyes and slitted pupils betraying her true inhuman nature. Arcueid Brunestud, the White Princess of the True Ancestors. Or, with less of the Magi's weird names, she was basically a centuries-old super-vampire, one of those descended, so to speak, from the original vampire, Type Moon, aka Crimson Moon Brunestud. Though unlike many vampires, Arc not only didn't drink blood, but wasn't a misanthrope. A few vampires were like that, like Zelretch, or Merem Solomon. They were helpful to people. Others, though, were every bit as monstrous as the vampires of myth and legend.

"And when was he going to tell me that the Holy Grail War was about to happen?" Harry asked.

"Hey, you try telling him to do something. Don't forget, when he was at his prime, he managed to defeat my forefather. Besides, I didn't know until I saw Grandfather at Clock Tower. Anyway, he said, even if you don't get a Servant, these might help if you get caught up in the crossfire." She handed a box over to Harry.

"What are they?"

"Rings. They give you some basic protection, like a form of permanent Reinforcement combined with protection from some magical attacks. Not only that, but apparently, Mordred's can use her latent magic and yours to boost her power to that approaching a Heroic Spirit's. Not as strong as a Heroic Spirit, of course, but not far from it."

"…What's the catch?" Harry asked, and Taiga understood his suspicion. Zelretch had a habit of being a prankster.

"If there is one, he didn't tell me. Anyway, do you mind if I stay here for the night? I don't intend to stick around for the Grail War to get going, but I thought I'd say hello to the others."

Taiga nodded. "Sure. You're always welcome, Arc, unless you decide to act like something out of a horror movie."

"Believe me, Miss Fujimura, be glad you don't see me at work," Arc said ominously. "There's a rather irritating Dead Apostle in the next town over who seems to think he is Nero Chaos reborn. Between that and the Grail War, Clock Tower's agents here, to say nothing of the Church, are going to be busy…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Arc's got it in one. Seriously, why haven't we got a Harry/Arc story out there? Plus, foreshadowing.**

 **1\. I did pretty much the same thing for my** ** _Portal_** **crossover** ** _Is Your Great-Aunt an AI?!_**


	21. Dum Vivimus, Vivamus Chapter 1

**So, having finally started watching the first half of _Fate/Apocrypha_ , I finally feel confident enough to start a fic for it. I actually posted in the usual forums a number of challenges, hoping I'd do them myself one day...but when the time came, I found myself unable to do them as is, at least the way I wanted to. One particular story I wanted to do had a Harry/Eve pairing, and another had a Harry/Atalanta one, but the latter didn't work out as well as I wanted. However, salvation came from two sources.  
**

 **The first was a challenge by DZ2, who posted the 'Prodigal Son' challenge, where James, Lily and the real Child Who Lived were in hiding, training the true Child Who Lived, and having abandoned Harry. This is actually in the background of this story, and as I find it hard to bash Lily, she's in a coma in this story.**

 **The second was from Lupine Horror's _Reinforced_ series of _Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha_ crossovers. What that is exactly...well, I shouldn't spoil it for those who are yet to have read them, but those who have will understand what I mean when you read this.**

 **So yeah, I'm doing another WBWL fic, but it seemed to fit, it got my juices flowing, and, well, here it is. I hope you enjoy. And I intend to bring out more _Fate/Apocrypha_ crossovers in the future, and, hopefully, ones with _Fate/Grand Order_ and _Fate/Extra_...**

* * *

 _ **DUM VIVIMUS, VIVAMUS**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **SUMMONING**

Harry Black looked at the summoning circle he was about to use, and grunted softly in satisfaction. He was, admittedly, taking something of a risk doing this. It was, after all, outside the purview of his orders, and he knew Clock Tower was reluctant to send him to Romania. It was why he had been left out of the fifty-man squad sent there to try and assassinate Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia (fuck that name(1)), because they thought he was likely to act outside of orders. Which was odd, considering Padfoot was going there. As it was, given Darnic's pompous missive sent to Clock Tower, Harry feared that those Enforcers would meet a sticky end. He hoped Padfoot wouldn't be amongst them. His true father.

As it was, he was sent to Switzerland instead, to intercept Yggdmillennia's agents from gaining a catalyst. They probably couldn't intercept them all, but preventing as many catalysts that could be used to summon Heroic Spirits and have them act as Servants from falling into Yggdmillennia's hands as possible was a good thing. Which was why he was now on the outskirts of Geneva, having succeeded in his mission.

Harry could see what this was, a form of shuffling sideways, to prevent him from taking his revenge. True, he could understand that from a clinical, detached point of view, but he needed to make sure that _he_ was dead. The man who had screwed over his life. Who'd left him with a mark when Harry refused to bow down after learning the truth. Subconsciously, he touched the burn scars marring much of the right hand side of his face.

That was the day he learned who his friends truly were, when most of Hogwarts turned on him, and lauded the true saviour. Sheep. Even Ron had turned on him, albeit out of anger for the trap that was the Department of Mysteries, and even then, it wasn't out of malice but stupidity. By the time Ron realised the truth about the matter, Harry wanted nothing to do with him. Or Neville. Hermione, Luna, Remus and Sirius…they didn't turn on him. They didn't discard him like the trash everyone else made him feel like when it was revealed he wasn't the Boy Who Lived, not even a natural born child of James and Lily Potter…just a Homunculus clone of the real one, Charles Potter. A copy. An imitation. A fake. Used to distract Voldemort while Charles got trained.

And yet, in the aftermath, the public demanded to know why James and Charles (Lily being in a coma, and only found shortly after Voldemort was defeated for good: she was currently in Clock Tower) hadn't acted sooner. Dumbledore had died, and Snape, eager to poison the well, had aired every bit of dirty laundry he could about Dumbledore and James, even as he was sentenced to the Kiss. And the Potters disappeared…only to resurface recently in Romania, being the only wizards of note in the Magus clan known as Yggdmillennia.

Seven decades ago, Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia had joined the Third Holy Grail War (of the ones held in Fuyuki, before the Grail War spread across the world) as a Master. He'd actually collaborated with the Nazis, particularly with their occult branch known as the Thule Society, to wipe out the other Masters and steal the Greater Grail, taking it to Romania after betraying the Nazis. There were rumours about that for decades, but it was only confirmed recently. Now, Darnic and his clan, which was now made up of rogue Magi (for the most part), had made a declaration of secession from Clock Tower, and with the Greater Grail behind them, they certainly had the power to back that up.

The original Holy Grail War was a tournament of sorts. Seven Magi would summon Heroic Spirits to act as familiars. These familiars, once heroes from myth or history, were known as Servants, and they would fight to the end, until only one Master and Servant was left standing, and they would then grasp the Holy Grail, an artifact created by the von Einzbern family of Germany. It had a number of functions once fully charged. It could grant a wish to the Master and Servant left at the end of the Grail War, or it could, theoretically, access the Root, Akasha, the noosphere that lay at the centre of all, where all knowledge and power resided.

However, if what he heard was true, this Grail War, due to a mechanism built into the Grail to prevent collusion between the seven Masters, would be different: two teams of seven Masters and their respective Servants would be pitted against each other. Clock Tower's representatives would be the Red Faction, and Yggdmillennia the Black Faction.

Instead of joining the Ministry of Magic, which was exclusively for wizards, Harry became one of the few wizards to join the Magus Association, popularly known as Clock Tower. He'd trained and risen to become an Enforcer. He'd sweated and bled and wept under the tutelage of the likes of the infamous Kiritsugu Emiya, and the acerbic Executor Kirei Kotomine, who had come to Clock Tower on liaison from the Church. Hermione had become an assistant to Waver Velvet, a winner of one of the auxiliary Grail Wars who became Lord El-Melloi II, while Luna was Zelretch's assistant…well, enabler and sounding board. And Moony had been sent to Japan to investigate an Yggdmillennia-affiliated Magus by the name of Hyouma Sagara. He wasn't an Enforcer, but he often did odd work for Clock Tower, and he had contacts in Japan.

Harry looked over the ritual circle, running through the ritual in his head. _For the origin, silver and steel. For the cornerstone, gem and the Archduke of Contracts. For the ancestor, my great master Schweinorg. The colour I pay homage to is Red. The alighted wind becomes a wall. Close the gates in the four directions. From the crown, come forth. Trace the three-forked road leading to the kingdom. Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Repeat fivefold, and when each is filled, destroy it_. He nodded, satisfied.

He then set up on an altar a notebook, which included blueprints for something rather extraordinary. Something most people thought the realm of fiction. But in truth, it was real. It was why he was in Geneva, for Yggdmillennia's agents were trying to steal the notes of Victor Frankenstein, a real life scientist who had dabbled in magecraft and alchemy, using, amongst other things, cadavers as the basis of a Homunculus cyborg, known to history and pop culture as Frankenstein's monster. He'd stopped them, with somewhat excessive force.

He had felt sympathy for the monster, long before he'd even learned he was a Homunculus. Now, he felt kinship with it even more now than he did before. They were both Homunculi, conceived in hubris, rejected by their fathers, struggling with their own identities. So it was apt that, even though it would most likely be summoned as a Berserker, he would summon it.

He knew his superiors in Clock Tower would chew him out. They knew this was him forcing them to send him to Romania. But frankly, he'd heard the list of some of the potential Masters they were considering sending over, if the assassination squad failed. They were thinking of sending Feend vor Sembren, for fuck's sake, and while he was a good Magus and academic, he'd be eaten alive. He had higher hopes for Kairi Sisigou and Jean Rum, and the Gum brothers, Cabik and Deimlet Pentel, too.

But he needed to be in Romania. He needed to take down James Potter, and Yggdmillennia. Nothing else mattered.

Deciding now was the time to cross the Rubicon, he walked over to the circle, and placed his hand out. Pumping mana into the circle, he began the incantation, modifying it to include a Berserker's creed. " _Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world, that I shall defeat all evil in the world! Then let your eyes be clouded with the fog of turmoil and chaos, you who are trapped in a cage of madness, and I, the summoner, who holds your chains! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!_ "

There was a flare of crimson light, dazzling Harry temporarily, before it died down, revealing a figure crouched in the circle, smoke purling from the circle proper. He blinked, trying to see if the afterimage was interfering too much with his sight, or else he really had seen what he had seen. The figure stood, and peered at him curiously, its…no, _her_ eyes partly hidden by a veil of red hair.

"Ungh?" she grunted, a question in the noise. Presumably she couldn't talk coherently due to the Mad Enhancement all Berserkers had, robbing them of their reason in exchange for power and tenacity.

Remembering the forms, he looked down at his hand, and noted the distinctive red scrawl of Command Seals. Holding them up for them to see, he said, "Hello…well, you weren't actually given a name, were you? I'll give you one later, I mean, other than Berserker or Frankenstein. I'm Harry Black, and I'm your Master. Pleased to meet you." He held out his hand to the Berserker, who looked down at it curiously. For a moment, he was worried that she wouldn't know what to do.

However, after a moment, she grunted in apparent satisfaction, a slight smile touching her lips, and she clasped his hand in her own, surprisingly gently. As she did so, he scrutinised his Servant. He was trying to reconcile the famous image of Frankenstein's monster with the young woman in front of her.

She could have been anywhere from her teens to her twenties, her skin pale and apparently flawless. She was dressed in something that could have been a wedding dress. Instead of the bolts the movie versions had, she had what looked like a collar, along with headphone-like apparatuses on her ears, and a unicorn-like horn of metal, a lightning rod, perhaps. Her face was cute, though mostly hidden by a messy mop of red hair. Barely visible from beneath her fringe were her eyes, mismatched, but not in a bad way: one was sapphire, the other golden. Her legs appeared to be metal prostheses. Oddly, she had the air almost of a dog, a curious hound trying to discern loyalty, as well as an element of shyness. Clutched in one of her hands was a massive mace, like a Tesla coil, complete with round metal ball.

"So…would you like a name? I mean, given that you've probably got as many daddy issues as I do, I don't think you'd like being called Fran or Frankenstein, right?"

The Berserker Servant shook her head vehemently with a grunt, before she ground out the very first word she had spoken to him. "Ber-ser-ker!"

"Look, that's what I'll call you when I need to. But…you deserve a name. I mean…I'm like you, a Homunculus. I was given a name, and a false lineage. My mother named me. She actually cared about me, by all accounts, even though I was a decoy. Not that I can know for sure, given what happened to her." This had Berserker's attention. Out loud, he mused, "Hmm…I think in the novel, your counterpart told your creator that he should have been his Adam. So…what about Eve?"

"…Eve…" Berserker rolled the name around on her tongue, before finally, she looked up at him. Once more, she gave him a slight smile, and nodded with a satisfied grunt.

"Right, so it's settled. Your name is Eve, not Frankenstein's monster," Harry said cheerfully. "A beautiful name for a beautiful girl." This made the newly-named Eve blush slightly beneath her fringe. "You know, it's a crying shame that you have Mad Enhancement on, Eve. If the novel was any indication, you were very intelligent. And I'd love to talk to you." He frowned when he remembered something Waver had told him, that, under certain circumstances, Mad Enhancement could be turned off temporarily, albeit at a reduction of a Berserker's stats. On an impulse, he reached out with his magic, and his finger, and poked her in the forehead. "Boop."

Eve recoiled, blinking beneath her fringe, before she said, "Hey, what was that for? Could you do me a solid and not…do…that…again?(2)" Her voice was a little rough and scratchy, and certainly soft, but other than that, it was the voice of an angel. And when she realised she was speaking normally, she blinked beneath her fringe in astonishment. "How did you…?"

"I've no idea. Just chalk it up to wizard magic being bullshit at times. How does it feel to be able to speak properly again?"

Eve gently touched her throat. Then, she began smiling. It was a small, tentative and sad thing, but it was a smile all the same. "Master, I love it."

"Hey, don't call me Master. We're not Master and Servant here. We're partners, Eve," Harry said. "Some Magi view Servants as just that, familiars to do their bidding, forgetting or choosing to ignore the fact that you were people once."

"…Even me?" Eve asked.

"Yes. Some people don't count Homunculi as, well, people. But…well, the line's pretty blurry. Now, we'd better get going. Someone may have spotted the flare when you were summoned, and I need to get back to London to report. So, Berserker of Red, Eve, I reckon this will be the start of a beautiful friendship…"

* * *

 **OPENING**

 **SONG:** ** _I Want to Live_** **by John and Korey Cooper of Skillet (opening to** ** _Fate/Apocrabridged_** **)**

 _As the opening chords begin, we travel through clouds, until we come to Trifas. As the rock chords start up, we go through the streets of Trifas, finding, walking along it, and lingering on each pair in turn, Kairi, Mordred, Remus, Jackie (dressed in normal clothes, as are the other Servants), Jeanne, the boy who, in canon, would be called Sieg, and finally, Harry and Eve. They then zoom out, showing the moonlit sky, with the title_.

In a grave of roses, while the night is closing in,

My soul is so cold, but I want to live again.

 _We see Kairi and Mordred walking through a graveyard. In the polished obsidian of one of the newer, snazzier gravestones, we see, instead of Mordred and Kairi reflected, we see Arturia and a pensive Charles Potter reflected briefly. We then see Remus giving Jackie a piggy-back ride down a Romanian town's street, Jackie looking overjoyed, while Remus has a rueful smile on his face. As they pass by a shop window, we see Shirou Kotomine and Semiramis reflected briefly in their stead_.

I know you'll come to me, I wait in misery,

I want to fight for this, save me from this darkness,

I reach for the light…

 _We see Harry looking into a mirror, seeing his younger self, so naïve…and behind him, the shadowy figure of James Potter, gripping his face, burning it, while behind James is the even shadowier figure of Heracles. A hand lands on Harry's shoulder, and he starts, only to find a concerned Eve looking at him. He turns to her, and they share a rueful smile. Then, we see Sieg reaching up towards a light…which vaguely looks like Avalon_.

I want to live my life!

The choice is mine, I've made up my mind

Now I'm free to start again!

 _Eve and Mordred charge side by side at a couple of Servants of the Black Faction, with Mordred crossing swords with her father, warring emotions on both their faces, while Eve clashes with one of Avicebron's golems. Jackie rides on top of a car driven by Kairi and Remus as if it was the most metal pony in the world…and thankfully, she's not wearing the same outfit from canon. She leaps off it towards Astolfo, who blocks the attack with a comical look on his face_.

The way I want to live, (To live)

And breathe (And breathe)

The way I want that's right for me…

 _Jeanne and the Homunculus canonically known as Sieg dodge Heracles' attacks, who himself is attacked by Atalanta and Achilles, only for them to have to dodge Vlad III's Kazikli Bey stake attacks, as Darnic and Vlad stand side by side_.

I may not know nothing else,

But I know this, I want to live!

I know this, I want to live!

 _We see Mordred and Arturia supporting each other, badly injured, as they look up into the night sky. So too does James and Charles Potter, and Heracles. In the night sky are the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, and we zoom in on Eve and Harry alongside 'Sieg' and Jeanne confronting Shirou Kotomine and Semiramis, the former changing into his regalia as Ruler. As the song ends, Eve, Harry, Jeanne and 'Sieg' charge_ …

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it, a WBWL fic mixed in with a** ** _Fate/Apocrypha_** **crossover. The lyrics are for** ** _I Want to Live_** **by Skillet, which I don't own, obviously. It's going to be one of many** ** _Fate/Apocrabridged_** **references in this fic…**

 **1\. The constant complaint about the hard-to-pronounce Yggdmillennia name in** ** _Fate/Apocrabridged_** **'s first episode.**

 **2\. Now, Eve's turn of phrase may seem odd, but in the English dub, she's played by Sarah Anne Williams, who also played Tifa for Team Four Star's** ** _Final Fantasy VII Machinabridged_** **. So, we're going to see the occasional reference to her character there, though Eve's going to be much sweeter than the Abridged Series version of Tifa…**


	22. Dum Vivimus, Vivamus Chapter 2

**I'm gratified at the mostly positive response to this story, so here's the second chapter. I'm already up to the fourth chapter, though I'll wait until (and if) I write eight chapters or thereabouts before I start publishing. The third chapter revolves around Darnic and Avicebron discussing events, as well as Harry and company witnessing the summoning of Moedred. The chapter after that has Arturia, the Saber of Black in this story, considering her new situation. As a bit of a caveat, the Arturia in this story will be the one who went through the events of _Unlimited Blade Works_. The reason for this was that I needed an Arturia who might be receptive to reconciling with Mordred (even if it'd take some time), so she needed to go through the events of _Fate/Zero_ at the very least.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter...**

* * *

 _ **DUM VIVIMUS, VIVAMUS**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **REPORTS, REVENGE AND RECRUITMENT**

Waver Velvet pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, before turning an impressive glare on the subject of his annoyance. "…So, that's your field report."

"Yep."

"You dealt with the Yggdmillennia operatives…"

"Yep."

"Took what they intended to steal from the Magus' Association's archives in Geneva…"

"Yep."

"And decided to summon a Berserker, who happened to be a…"

"Beautiful bashful bride, yes, I just got through explaining this to you, Waver," Harry Black said exasperatedly, albeit with a slightly smug smile mixed in. He'd adopted Kiritsugu Emiya's dress sense, being dressed in a dark suit and trenchcoat. His messy thatch of dark hair framed handsome features marred by a burn scar on the right side of his face. Emerald eyes peered out from behind thick glasses.

Waver sighed. They had a nickname for what Harry did at times, when things got messy, not enough for the mundanes to notice, but rather, when he didn't give a flying fuck about the hierarchy and politics of Clock Tower. Enthusiastic walks, after a joke he made flippantly about one time he teamed up with Arcueid Brunestud, the infamous White Princess of the True Ancestors, or, in other words, a Real Fucking Vampire(1).

Still, Waver actually liked Harry. The pair of them shared a somewhat iconoclastic attitude to authority, and Waver was one of those who had sponsored Harry as an Enforcer, once his own ascent to becoming Lord El-Melloi II was assured. Waver was even courting one of Harry's friends, Miss Granger. It was just that he could be so _exasperating_.

Case in point, the young woman sitting next to him, reading a book, while a pair of alligator clips connected her to a power point on the wall. Not that she needed it per se, as Harry's magical reserves were quite good, but they liked to take advantage of the woman's skill of Galvanism, being able to turn electricity into mana. Waver wondered briefly whether she came with the admonition of 'batteries not included' somewhere on her body, and fought a sudden urge to smile at the notion. The book she was reading was a Penguin paperback of the novel based on her life, apparently.

"…You did this deliberately, didn't you? To ensure we had to send you to Romania?" Waver asked exasperatedly.

"On or off the record?"

"Off the record."

"Then yes, bluntly. Yggdmillennia and I have some debts to settle. The old farts in charge were looking to keep me from that, I'm sure, especially that senile fool Rocco, who I reckon's gone soft in the head from all those jars he has filled with pickled monsters. Besides, from what I've heard, they were looking to send Feend vor Sembren. He's an academic, not an Enforcer!"

"An academic with connections, Harry," Waver said with a sigh. "I don't like that anymore than you do, but I also don't like you haring off on a quixotic crusade of revenge against James Potter and getting yourself killed. Leaving aside the fact that I know firsthand how dangerous even an auxiliary Grail War can be, the wizards are blaming us for his defection to Yggdmillennia."

"Because they're idiots," Harry said bluntly. "From what I've dug up, along with what Padfoot and Moony have managed to, he's been with Yggdmillennia since shortly after he left Hogwarts. He was hiding out and training _Charles_ in Romania. And Waver…James screwed over my life. He left me this." He touched the burn scars. "He and Dumbledore left me to rot with the Dursleys. These scars are a reminder of that, and of my vow. He treated me as less than a thing. My life was nothing to James. I was just a doll. Even Dumbledore, for all his callousness, treated me better than that, or at least made a better pretence."

"And you also know, thanks to the intelligence we gained, that the Potters were in possession of Avalon, and it's not present in any of their known estates in Britain," Waver said. "Leaving aside any other Servants Yggdmillennia may have summoned, King Arthur as a Saber is already a daunting prospect. We're considering giving one of the other Masters a piece of the Round Table, hoping that whoever is summoned from that might be able to counter Arthur."

"I'm surprised a fragment still exists in this day and age," the woman, whom Harry had introduced as 'Eve', spoke up, peeking over the book shyly.

"Clock Tower has a number of rare relics dating back thousands of years, as do many of the noteworthy Magus families." Waver pulled a list towards him. "We actually have a list of a few of the known catalysts Yggdmillennia have collected over the past little while. One, for example, is the notebook of Avicebron."

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Avicebron, a noted Jewish poet, philosopher, kabbalist and alchemist from 11th Century Spain, though his real name was Solomon ibn Gabirol. He was said to have created a golem in life. Another relic was a fragment of a myrtle tree, said to be the one Astolfo was trapped in by the sorceress Alcina. Astolfo was one of the Twelve Paladins of Charlemagne in the Matter of France," Waver explained.

"May I?" Harry asked, hand out for the list. Waver handed it over to him reluctantly, and Harry's eyes scanned the list. "A fragment of the Golden Fleece, part of the floor from the Temple of Heracles, a piece of metal said to be from Harpe, the weapon Perseus used to slay Medusa, one of the masks used by the leaders of the Assassins…this is worrisome, and the list is so long, we don't know which of these would be used for sure. They've even stolen antique guns, one supposedly used by Francis Drake, the other by Oda Nobunaga, whoever that is!"

"Well, we can be assured of one thing, at least," Waver said. "They won't be summoning Assassin for their side."

"How do you know?" Harry asked.

"Because Remus Lupin intercepted Hyouma Sagara in Japan, and became, albeit inadvertently, the Master of the Assassin originally intended to be used by the Black Faction. We know Assassin for the Red Faction has been summoned already. Given the calibre of Servants Yggdmillennia was looking to summon, any Servant off their side and on ours is only a good thing."

"I never thought Moony to be the type to get along with an Assassin Servant," Harry mused.

"Yes, well, I've met her. It seems that Eve is not the only Heroic Spirit thought to be male who turned out to be female," Waver said, before pressing a button on the phone on his desk. "Send Mr Lupin and his guest inside, please."

The door soon opened, revealing the haggard, careworn and scarred features of Remus Lupin. Following close behind him was a little girl, not even in her teens, with ash grey hair, golden eyes, and a face that was cute, even without the two scars marring it. She was dressed in a simple blouse and jeans, and had a happy smile on her face.

Harry was instantly hugging his honorary uncle. "Moony," he said, "what the hell happened?"

"I could say the same for you, Harry," Remus Lupin said, looking at Eve. "And this young lady is…?"

"Ah. Eve, meet Remus Lupin, the nearest thing I have to a proper uncle who wasn't a belligerent, xenophobic walrus. Remus Lupin, meet Eve, aka Berserker of Red."

"Hello," Eve said shyly, as she shook Remus' hand.

"And this is…Jackie," Remus said, gently leading the grey-haired girl over to them. She peered up at them with golden eyes, wide with curiosity, and a little wariness.

"Hello, Eve," Jackie said, cocking her head curiously. "I'm Assassin, but you can call me Jackie. And you must be Harry."

Harry nodded, before frowning. "Jackie?"

Remus cleared his throat. "Sagara stole a knife from the Black Museum of Scotland Yard. He intended to use that as a catalyst, as well as a means of murdering a Japanese prostitute he had hired called Reika Rikudou. I managed to intercept him before he could kill her, but the summoning process had begun, but…"

"We didn't like the bad man's mana," Jackie hissed suddenly. "It was all cold and poison, like the river, like the smog, choking us and burning us. But Daddy's mana…it was warm, even with the light of the moon and the howling of the wolf inside. We haven't been warm in so long. And he was protecting Miss Reika. So, we decided he would be our Master."

"…What's with the speaking in plurals?" Harry asked, clearly disturbed. "Wait a moment…her name is Jackie, Sagara stole a knife from Scotland Yard, and he intended to kill a prostitute with it…no way…this munchkin's Jack the Ripper?! Is she…can you trust her?"

"He keeps me warm," Jackie said, the diminutive serial killer walking over to Harry and gazing up at him. "He told me about you. About how you were like us in many ways."

"Harry, it's fine, we can trust her," Remus said. "She's just…twisted. She's a gestalt of the souls of children who fell through the cracks in Victorian England, the wraiths of children who died of hunger or murder on the streets of London…all of which coalesced into a single child who wanted to go back where it was warm…the womb. I've been spending the past day or so trying to educate her, as well as to get her to have an enjoyable childhood, because her killings were done due to a lack of a moral compass."

"And yet, she's still going to be fighting in the Grail War," Harry pointed out.

"We want to," Jackie said, her earlier childish demeanour becoming darker. "We won't have a normal life until these mean Yggdmillennia people are gone. Daddy wants us to be able to have the childhood we didn't have. Besides…he said you could be my big brother. We never had a big brother before."

"Or proper clothes," Remus said. "You do not want to know what she was wearing when I first summoned her. Even the clothes of a Victorian urchin would've been better. I've persuaded her to wear something more covering when she fights. Though I intend to have Jackie act as our scout for the most part, rather than having her go into battle."

"Hopefully, Ruler will accept her defection, so to speak," Waver muttered.

"Ruler?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Ruler is a class outside of the usual seven classes of Servants. In a Holy Grail War like this, according to the documents left behind by the von Einzberns, a Ruler Servant is summoned to act as a referee of sorts," Waver said. "They are a saint of some kind, to act as an impartial judge, taking the role of the Church's Overseer from the previous Grail Wars, and have the ability to command any Servant in the Grail War. I doubt that taking Assassin from their side inadvertently would count as a breach of the rules, as Assassin has chosen her Master willingly. Still, when you two head to Romania, I want you to make contact with the Ruler Servant as soon as you can."

"Right," Harry said, looking down at Jackie a little warily. "Anything else?"

"Well, we've decided to bring Kairi Sisigou in," Waver said. "I believe Rocco has decided to make him Saber's Master. It'd be strange to have a mercenary necromancer in charge of one of the Knights of the Round Table, but he's reliable in his work, and as unconventional in attack on Magi as Kiritsugu Emiya."

"I'm surprised you didn't recruit him," Harry said.

"Emiya has been suffering burnout for a long time. He considered participating in the Grail War I participated in, but decided that the Grail in that Grail War wouldn't be enough to grant his wish. He also wouldn't work well with most heroes."

Harry nodded. Waver knew he had trained under Emiya long enough to know the man's attitudes. "Plus, he adopted that Shirou kid who was orphaned from the Dead Apostle rampage in Fuyuki ten years ago. That kid probably saved his sanity, and the last I saw, Maiya was enjoying being a mother, believe it or not. I mean, I knew he was in semi-retirement when he started training me, but still…" He shook his head. "I find it an honour that he granted me his Origin Rounds. I think he gave them to me because he didn't want Shirou to follow him down that path. I was already down it when he began teaching me. He took me out of the darkest part of that path. I don't kill the one to save the many, not if the one is a relative innocent. You kill as few as possible, to save as many as possible. There is a difference."

Waver opened his mouth to make a comment, only for the phone to ring. He answered it, and listened, before his eyes widened in horror. After a terse and tense conversation, he replaced the phone handset, and looked at the gathered Masters and Servants. "That was the Enforcers division. There's bad news out of Romania. Our hitsquad was decimated. Only one of the Enforcers made it back alive, sent as a messenger."

"What of Sirius?!" Harry demanded, going over to Waver's desk, and glaring down at him. "Is he dead?!"

"No…but he was captured by Yggdmillennia. And all the others…they were slaughtered by a Servant, impaled on a forest of stakes…it seems that Yggdmillennia has summoned a Servant already, and in all likelihood, he is Vlad Tepes of Wallachia…the inspiration for Dracula…"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Oh dear. Complications of all sorts have arisen, but why was Sirius captured alive? And Remus has Jackie! We'll go into Reika's fate later. She won't be participating in the events of this story, but she is alive and relatively well.**

 **1\. As you can guess, this part of the opening chapter is a reference to** ** _Hellsing Ultimate Abridged_** **, mostly the first episode.**


	23. Love and War Chapter 1

**I have some good news and some bad news. _Dum Vivimus, Vivamus_ will not see the light of day. I got six chapters in (including a lovely POV chapter involving Jackie), before I realised the story was flawed, and not in a way that I thought I could salvage with little effort. Part of the problem was a lack of character conflict, with Harry and Charles being perhaps too nice towards what they thought of each other. And with all due respect to Eve (and I actually mean that), she wasn't quite developing in a way I wanted her to, though she has a nice scene in the incomplete seventh chapter, where she quotes _Hamlet_ (specifically, the Yorick speech), and reveals details about her life and death. Fans of Eve, though, shouldn't despair, as that frees her up as a possible pairing in a later fanfic.**

 **The good news is, I've re-used elements of that story (including a modified version of the same backstory, as well as Servants from the original _Fate/Stay Night_ being summoned on Yggdmillennia's side) to create a revamped version. This version has one particularly noteworthy change: Lily's a main character...and she's going to be the Master of Jackie instead of Lupin. Her relationship with Harry will be a bit rocky at times, as the first two chapters show, but she also cares about her son, even if he's a Homunculus clone of her real son...who all but disowned her.**

 **I chose the title deliberately. Not only because it's part of the famous phrase 'all's fair in love and war', but also because it's the title of one of the best _Doctor Who_ novels ever written...and, like many things in the Nasuverse, one of the darkest and most heartbreaking. Seriously, was Gen Urobuchi or Kinoku Nasu writing under Paul Cornell's name at the time?**

* * *

 _ **LOVE AND WAR**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **SUMMONING**

Harry Evans looked at the gathered Magi. He was, admittedly, taking something of a risk doing this. He was, after all, going behind his superior's back while she dealt with Hyouma Sagara…but frankly, he was sick and tired of being sidelined on missions, or else being given babysitters. Yes, he understood why from an intellectual level: given his nature, there would be Magi and wizards drooling at a chance to vivisect him. But it also felt like coddling.

She was his mother after all, even if she had been absent for much of his life. That was part of what grated on him. Then again, at least she loved him, despite the fact that he was but a copy of her biological child, one who was currently holed up in Romania, along with her ex-husband. The man who had screwed over his life. Who'd left him with a mark when Harry refused to bow down after learning the truth. Subconsciously, he touched the burn scars marring much of the right hand side of his face.

That was the day he learned who his friends truly were, when most of Hogwarts turned on him, and lauded the true saviour. Sheep. Even Ron had turned on him, albeit out of anger for the trap that was the Department of Mysteries, and even then, it wasn't out of malice but stupidity. By the time Ron realised the truth about the matter, Harry wanted nothing to do with him. Or Neville. Hermione, Luna, Remus and Sirius…they didn't turn on him. They didn't discard him like the trash everyone else made him feel like when it was revealed he wasn't the Boy Who Lived, not even a natural born child of James and Lily Potter…just a Homunculus clone of the real one, Charles Potter. A copy. An imitation. A fake. Used to distract Voldemort while Charles got trained.

Lily, meanwhile, had been in a coma. The short version of what had been a very long story was that James had Homunculus copies of his family created to act as decoys while they went further into hiding. Lily didn't know about this until later, and had managed to purge herself of being dosed on Amortentia. She went to save the Homunculi, only to be tortured by Cruciatus into a coma by a confused Voldemort. She'd been kept in the Department of Mysteries ever since…until Harry stumbled across her during that mess.

Lily, after taking some time to recover, was Not Happy. After Voldemort was finally put paid to, she confronted her husband and child, along with Dumbledore, the latter dying of a curse put on one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. She made the good sense to make sure that she had the magical equivalent of a bug on her, broadcasting to everywhere she could. James and Dumbledore made the mistake of elucidating about their plans…and they were exposed. And the Potters disappeared…only to resurface recently in Romania, being the only wizards of note in the Magus clan known as Yggdmillennia.

Seven decades ago, Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia had joined the Third Holy Grail War (of the ones held in Fuyuki, before the Grail War spread across the world) as a Master. He'd actually collaborated with the Nazis, particularly with their occult branch known as the Thule Society, to wipe out the other Masters and steal the Greater Grail, taking it to Romania after betraying the Nazis. There were rumours about that for decades, but it was only confirmed recently. Now, Darnic and his clan, which was now made up of rogue Magi (for the most part), had made a declaration of secession from Clock Tower, and with the Greater Grail behind them, they certainly had the power to back that up.

The original Holy Grail War was a tournament of sorts. Seven Magi would summon Heroic Spirits to act as familiars. These familiars, once heroes from myth or history, were known as Servants, and they would fight to the end, until only one Master and Servant was left standing, and they would then grasp the Holy Grail, an artifact created by the von Einzbern family of Germany. It had a number of functions once fully charged. It could grant a wish to the Master and Servant left at the end of the Grail War, or it could, theoretically, access the Root, Akasha, the noosphere that lay at the centre of all, where all knowledge and power resided.

However, if what he heard was true, this Grail War, due to a mechanism built into the Grail to prevent collusion between the seven Masters, would be different: two teams of seven Masters and their respective Servants would be pitted against each other. Clock Tower's representatives would be the Red Faction, and Yggdmillennia the Black Faction.

After the war against Voldemort ended, and James and Charles fucked off to Romania, Lily brought Harry into not the Ministry of Magic, but rather, the Magus' Association. He'd trained and risen to become an Enforcer. He'd sweated and bled and wept under the tutelage of the likes of the infamous Kiritsugu Emiya, and the acerbic Executor Kirei Kotomine, who had come to Clock Tower on liaison from the Church. Hermione had become an assistant to Waver Velvet, a winner of one of the auxiliary Grail Wars who became Lord El-Melloi II, while Luna was Zelretch's assistant…well, enabler and sounding board.

And yet, his mother still thought he wasn't ready to do solo missions. In fact, they'd had the latest (and most loud) in a series of rows about that very subject shortly before she headed off to deal with Sagara. However, he happened to see an email from Waver about some Yggdmillennia goons coming to the city of Ise, to its famous Grand Shrine, possibly to steal some of the artifacts there, including the famous _Yata no Kagami_. That mirror was said to have belonged to Amaterasu herself, the Japanese sun goddess, and was one of the Three Sacred Treasures of Japan, the Imperial Regalia.

And yet, these bastards were going to steal it, and use it for their own ends.

He heard one intoning something as he drew out a ritual circle in the woods near the shrine. " _For the origin, silver and steel. For the cornerstone, gem and the Archduke of Contracts. For the ancestor, my great master Schweinorg. The colour I pay homage to is Black. The alighted wind becomes a wall. Close the gates in the four directions. From the crown, come forth. Trace the three-forked road leading to the kingdom. Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Repeat fivefold, and when each is filled, destroy it._ "

Harry snarled quietly from where he was watching. A _Servant_. They intended to summon a damned _Servant_. And on the altar was the _Yata no Kagami_.

"Hey, is it really okay if we do this?" one of the Magi asked. "Don't they have two Servants summoned already?"

"Silence!" snapped one of them, an obese man with blonde hair and a toothbrush moustache that made him look either like a belligerent, obese Charlie Chaplin, or else an obese Hitler. "Lord Darnic made a mistake in passing me over for that fool Potter and his brat! I intend to come back with a first-rate Servant. Besides, Tamamo-no-Mae can be manifested in multiple classes, including Caster and Berserker. And as our research have shown us that Tamamo-no-Mae was once an aspect of none other than Amaterasu, then this relic should do the trick."

Harry knew him from the files Clock Tower compiled on known members of Yggdmillennia. Gordes Musik Yggdmillennia, a half-decent alchemist specialising in Homunculi, and probably one of the better creators of Homunculi outside of the von Einzberns. However, he was also a pompous, egotistical sack of shit, who was basically an amalgamation of the worst qualities of James Potter, Snape, Vernon Dursley, and Lockhart, with an inferiority complex the size of a small planet.

As Gordes prepared to do the summoning, however, Harry had a notion cross his mind, and his expression became set in one of grim determination. He would force those fossils in Clock Tower, and his mother, to have him go to Romania. He was 24 now, he was an adult, not a kid, and he deserved to be able to make a decision on his own.

So, he held out his hand towards the ritual circle, remembering the words from something Waver showed him once, and hissing them under his breath. " _The colour I pay tribute to is Red. Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world, that I shall defeat all evil in the world! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!_ "

Gordes and his lackeys only noticed something was going on when the circle began to glow. Just before the ritual ended, he saw Harry, despite Harry being hidden behind a thicket. Gordes' yell of anger was stillborn as the circle belched a column of crimson light into the sky. Harry knew he had succeeded when he felt the sting in his right hand.

"You…you interfering bastard!" Gordes roared. "But it will be for naught! This is **_my_** Servant! Servant! Kill that interloper!"

The voice from the still-clearing dust cloud was playful and vaguely sultry. "…Heavens me, this won't do at all. Anyway, you're not my husband, and I'm not sure I want you to be, Fatso."

Gordes wheeled on the Servant as they strode from the dust cloud. "What do you mean?! You are a Servant, a familiar, and I am the one who summoned you!" Then, he was staring when the Servant emerged.

It was a beautiful young woman with pink hair, dressed in a rather revealing deep blue kimono, strutting along like a model on the catwalk. But her eyes were golden, dancing with mischief. A pair of animal ears protruded from her head. And a big, bushy tail protruded from her rear. She looked nothing less than a fox in humanoid form, an impression helped by her smile.

She strutted up to Gordes, who was struck dumb by her beauty, before he was struck by her foot, right between his legs. As his eyes crossed, and an ultrasonic whine of pain emitted from his lips, she said, " _Ippu-tasai Kyosei-ken_. Or, the Polygamist Castration Fist, if you can't speak the local language."

"…That was a kick," one of the Yggdmillennia goons pointed out.

"Heavens me, we have someone _trying_ to be smart," the woman said, smiling as Gordes collapsed to the ground. " _Trying_ being the operative word. As in, you're trying my patience. Skedaddle, peons."

"No!" Harry yelled. "Servant…capture them, please."

The Servant looked at him as he stood, and smiled. "Ah, yes, much more to my liking, scars aside. Your wish is my command, Husband."

Husband?

What happened next was, well, spectacular. She danced around the minions, albeit only half a dozen (and amongst Yggdmillennia's less competent Magi, at least in terms of combat: Gordes must have been scraping the bottom of the barrel, and while they must have been competent enough to steal the famous mirror, fighting wasn't their strong suit…though it WAS a Servant they were facing), flinging the paper talismans favoured by Japanese mystics at them, causing them to become partially encased in ice. She made swift work of them, and then turned to Harry, bowing not in subservience, but as if to say, _How did I do?_

He was sure that the fact he got a grand view down her cleavage was wholly deliberate on her part.

She then snapped her fingers, and he noted that the Yggdmillennia Magi went to sleep. "So…let's get the formalities out of the way. Caster of Red has answered your summons. I ask of you…are you my Master?" Then, after a moment, she whispered, in a stage whisper, " _This is the part where you say_ _ **yes**_ _, Husband._ "

"And this is the part where I have to ask… _Husband?_ " Harry asked, looking down at his hand, and noting the Command Seals there. He was trying hard to not let his gaze stray to her very beautiful body.

"Yes, and let me tell you, I'm glad it was you and not Fatso over there," she said with a pout, jabbing her thumb back over her shoulder at Gordes. "When I made my entrance, I could feel him undressing me with his eyes, and while I admittedly live for that sort of thing, he's not my type."

"He said he was trying to summon Tamamo-no-Mae…whoever that is. My knowledge of Japanese myths and legends is admittedly hazy," Harry admitted.

Her pout intensified. "Well, that won't do at all! I can't abide by many things, and ignorance, particularly about myself, is one of them! For I am, indeed, Tamamo-no-Mae, former consort to Emperor Toba. So, Husband, what do we do about the trash? I presume you wanted them captured instead of killed or on the run for a reason?"

"First of all, my name is Harry. I'd prefer that to Master…or Husband," Harry said. "Second, the Grail should give you information upon materialising, so you should know I'm an Enforcer from Clock Tower. I was trying to stop these idiots from stealing the _Yata no Kagami_. They used it as a catalyst to summon you, claiming you were an aspect of Amaterasu."

"Oh, I am. It's a long story. The _Yata no Kagami_ , hmm? Well, we'd best put it back whence these fools pilfered it from. Ugh, the thought of Fatso's greasy fingers touching my sacred mirror gives me all kinds of bad vibes," she said with a shiver.

"Fatso, as you call him, is Gordes Musik Yggdmillennia," Harry said, muttering briefly under his breath, "Fuck that name(1)." Louder, he said, "Yggdmillennia is both a Magus clan and an organisation looking to secede from Clock Tower, using the Greater Grail."

"Oh, I got that bit down. Darnic was naughty, stealing the Greater Grail, and in trying to rig the odds in his favour, ended up causing a Great Holy Grail War, with two teams of seven Servants. Now, it seems I am the Caster of Red. So, I presume you wanted these wastes of space kept alive for interrogation?"

"Yes. Thank you for listening, Caster. We'd better get the _Yata no Kagami_ back to where it's supposed to be." Suddenly, a trill of a ringtone came from his pocket, and he plucked out his mobile, groaning as he saw the number.

"What's the matter, Husband?" Tamamo asked.

"I'm in trouble. My mother must've found out about my little mission. And she's not happy…"

* * *

 **OPENING**

 **SONG:** ** _I Want to Live_** **by John and Korey Cooper of Skillet (opening to** ** _Fate/Apocrabridged_** **)**

 _As the opening chords begin, we travel through clouds, until we come to Trifas. As the rock chords start up, we go through the streets of Trifas, finding, walking along it, and lingering on each pair in turn, Kairi, Mordred, Lily, Jackie (dressed in normal clothes, as are the other Servants), Jeanne, the boy who, in canon, would be called Sieg, and finally, Harry and Tamamo. They then zoom out, showing the moonlit sky, with the title_.

In a grave of roses, while the night is closing in,

My soul is so cold, but I want to live again.

 _We see Kairi and Mordred walking through a graveyard. In the polished obsidian of one of the newer, snazzier gravestones, we see, instead of Mordred and Kairi reflected, we see Arturia and a pensive Charles Potter reflected briefly. We then see Lily giving Jackie a piggy-back ride down a Romanian town's street, Jackie looking overjoyed, while Lily has a rueful smile on her face. As they pass by a shop window, we see Shirou Kotomine and Semiramis reflected briefly in their stead_.

I know you'll come to me, I wait in misery,

I want to fight for this, save me from this darkness,

I reach for the light…

 _We see Harry looking into a mirror, seeing his younger self, so naïve…and behind him, the shadowy figure of James Potter, gripping his face, burning it, while behind James is the even shadowier figure of Heracles. A hand lands on Harry's shoulder, and he starts, only to find a concerned Tamamo looking at him. He turns to her, and they share a rueful smile. Then, we see Sieg reaching up towards a light…which vaguely looks like Avalon_.

I want to live my life!

The choice is mine, I've made up my mind

Now I'm free to start again!

 _Tamamo and Mordred charge side by side at a couple of Servants of the Black Faction, with Mordred crossing swords with her father, warring emotions on both their faces, while Tamamo clashes with one of Avicebron's golems. Jackie rides on top of a car driven by Kairi and Lily as if it was the most metal pony in the world…and thankfully, she's not wearing the same outfit from canon. She leaps off it towards Astolfo, who blocks the attack with a comical look on his face_.

The way I want to live, (To live)

And breathe (And breathe)

The way I want that's right for me…

 _Jeanne and the Homunculus canonically known as Sieg dodge Heracles' attacks, who himself is attacked by Atalanta and Achilles, only for them to have to dodge Vlad III's Kazikli Bey stake attacks, as Darnic and Vlad stand side by side_.

I may not know nothing else,

But I know this, I want to live!

I know this, I want to live!

 _We see Mordred and Arturia supporting each other, badly injured, as they look up into the night sky. So too does James and Charles Potter, and Heracles. In the night sky are the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, and we zoom in on Tamamo and Harry alongside 'Sieg' and Jeanne confronting Shirou Kotomine and Semiramis, the former changing into his regalia as Ruler. As the song ends, Tamamo, Harry, Jeanne and 'Sieg' charge_ …

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it, a WBWL fic mixed in with a** ** _Fate/Apocrypha_** **crossover. The lyrics are for** ** _I Want to Live_** **by Skillet, which I don't own, obviously. It's going to be one of many** ** _Fate/Apocrabridged_** **references in this fic…**

 **Those of you who read the original iteration of this fic,** ** _Dum Vivimus, Vivamus_** **, will notice both a lot of differences, and a lot of similarities.**

 **1\. The constant complaint about the hard-to-pronounce Yggdmillennia name in** ** _Fate/Apocrabridged_** **'s first episode.**


	24. Love and War Chapter 2

**Thanks for the feedback regarding this new version of my _Fate/Apocrypha_ crossover. I'm actually a lot happier with it than I was with the original, given that the characterisation is improved, thanks to some added scenes and even a whole new chapter. Plus, Tamamo is, admittedly, more interesting to write for than Eve, though Eve will have her day. This also helps me with my potential _Fate/Extra_ crossover, as it means I have done a Harry/Tamamo pairing, and can concentrate on Harry/'Umu!'...I mean, Nero, Harry/Altera, or a threeway pairing (Altera is adorable in her own way: I may not have played past the first story arc of _Fate/Extella_ , but I have looked at the ending on YouTube, plus, in the Valentine's event of _Fate/Grand Order_ , she shows up as 'Choco is Good Civilization' XD ).**

 **Anyway, this scene was, admittedly, difficult for me to write, but I think it's necessary for Lily and Harry to clear the air somewhat, as well as show that their relationship, while strong enough, is also a bit on the rocky side due to their respective issues, particularly on Harry's end. And while I'm not sure whether Tamamo has Item Creation as a skill, I'm fudging it here as her having a low-level Item Creation, maybe D or E rank. I just needed a plausible way of Jackie having a new costume beyond Transfiguring the old clothes.**

 **In any case, I've done 7 chapters of this story so far, so keep an eye out for it being published as a full story soon...**

* * *

 _ **LOVE AND WAR**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **RECRIMINATIONS AND REVELATIONS**

Lily Evans was angry. No, she was _furious_. She had gone off to track down Hyouma Sagara and stop him from doing what he intended to do, leaving her son to his own devices. Admittedly, that had been after what had been their biggest row since she came out of her coma, so she had to have expected him to do something stupid and reckless. But going to confront Yggdmillennia's forces on his own took the cake!

"…And now, you're trapped in the Great Holy Grail War!" Lily snapped at Harry, concluding this particular part of her rant.

"So? Waver was 19 when he fought in that auxiliary Grail War!" Harry retorted. "He came out just fine!"

"Which was due to luck, and the fact that he summoned a powerful Heroic Spirit in Iskandar!" Lily yelled. "Grail Wars have a high mortality rate for Masters, Harry. You know this."

"Yeah. So I've just got to make sure the deaths are all on Yggdmillennia's side! I've had enough, Mum! You keep holding me back! Stopping me from doing what I know I can do! And aren't you a hypocrite, when I can see you've got Command Seals on your hand as well?!"

"That's beside the point!"

"No, it isn't! I had to face Voldemort three times, as well as a Hungarian Horntail and a fucking Basilisk, long before I found you in the Department of Mysteries! I'm capable of fighting by myself! More than capable, and yet, you won't recognise it!"

"You sound so arrogant, so very much like your father!" Lily snapped, only to realise she had crossed a line.

And then, his eyes narrowed in fury, he crossed it right back. "And you sound very much like _Snivellous_. A mother should support their child, not hold them back!"

"Not when they want to commit suicide in the name of revenge!" Lily yelled right back.

"I'm not going to kill myself, just anyone in my way!" Harry shouted.

"And if I get in your way?" Lily asked in a dangerous tone.

"Well…I thought we loved each other…but I guess that was a lie, like everything else," he said, the painful barb hitting home, before he stormed into his room in the hotel suite they had rented, and slammed the door shut loudly. She nearly stormed in after him, but didn't. Emotions were running high, and while their relationship was good, she would like to think, there was an undercurrent of resentment over how he felt to be sidelined during missions, never allowed to go solo.

There was a reason for that: Harry was probably one of the best examples of a Homunculus outside of those created by the von Einzberns of Germany. Many Magi would give anything for a chance to vivisect him, and there was certainly a price on his head from many corners, ranging from a number of the Blood Purists back home, the ones who managed to survive, to Yggdmillennia itself. A part of it, true, was due to a bit of maternal coddling, overcompensation for not being there for most of his life, as well as trying to give Harry a normal home life, especially after what he went through at the Dursleys (Vernon, Petunia and Marge were now…guests of Zelretch, though thankfully, Dudley had turned his life around, and had recently begun work as a physical trainer for the Enforcers).

And then, there was his singleminded obsession with revenge on James, and possibly Charles. Once more, she cursed James for what he did to their family, and to herself. To Charles, he spoiled and pampered him, twisting his mind and body, making him buy into that messianic BS of the Boy Who Lived. To Harry, he abandoned him, and when he turned up again, showed his displeasure at Harry's refusal to simply obey him by leaving those burn scars on his face. The fact that James managed to use Amortentia on her to make her his willing lover just made things even more personal.

Lily sighed as she looked at the Command Seals on her hand. According to that old fossil Rocco Belfeban, Assassin of Red was the first Servant to be summoned on their side, by Shirou Kotomine. And now, the Red Faction had a second Assassin, one originally intended for the Black Faction. Jack the Ripper. She had sent Jack the Ripper out on a brief recce, so that the Servant wouldn't get the wrong idea during the argument and try to kill Harry.

"I'm a failure of a mother," she muttered quietly, after spending some time in dark thoughts.

"I'm not sure I would say that."

Lounging around on the…lounge in front of her was Harry's Servant. A Caster. Harry had already let slip that this was Tamamo-no-Mae, the infamous courtesan of Emperor Tobe of 12th Century Japan, said to be a _kitsune_ or fox spirit. And despite her rather saucy way of dressing, the expression on the Caster's face was serious. A little angry, but not truly hostile to Lily. In truth, she looked more sad than anything.

"Your failure, Mother-in-Law, is less in your parenting as a whole, and more in particular things," Tamamo said. "Even while Astralized, my ears hurt from the screaming, and fox ears are pretty sensitive, let me tell you. I've put him to sleep with a little spell. I'm not saying my husband lacks fault. I understand why you don't want him to fight. But it's inevitable now. I chose to answer his summons, instead of that fatso. Gah! Not sure I would have liked him as a Master. I feel the need to wash my foot after punishing him for his insolence."

Lily chuckled, despite herself. The fact that Gordes Musik Yggdmillennia would most likely be singing soprano for the next few years was amusing. He and the other Yggdmillennia goons had been sent to the local branch of the Magus Association via Portkey, and the authorities, including those at Ise Shrine, notified about the near-theft of one of the Imperial Regalia. Plus, Tamamo's grimace about needing to wash her foot after kicking Gordes in the groin was hilarious. She needed the hilarity after what happened. And not just after the argument, either, but after what she witnessed.

She'd gone to a penthouse apartment in this city, one rented by Hyouma Sagara, an Yggdmillennia-affiliated Magus. She'd been accompanied on the mission by the infamous Kiritsugu Emiya, who was mostly retired these days, having become burnt out by his job, and only being saved from suicide by a young boy called Shirou, who had been orphaned by a Dead Apostle rampage through Fuyuki. Raising a child gave him a reason to live, and he had settled down with Shirou as his adopted son, and Maiya Hisau, his frequent assistant and lover, as his wife. However, Kiritsugu agreed on occasion to take certain jobs, and this was one of them.

Sagara had been delivered a certain artifact stolen from the Black Museum at Scotland Yard, a knife said to have belonged to the infamous serial killer Jack the Ripper. Earlier this night, he had also called a certain escort agency, paying for the services of one of their prostitutes, a young woman called Reika Rikudou. Lily had sprung into action, bursting through the door as Sagara, as a climax to his summoning (which was starting up), intended to kill Reika with the dagger.

But even as Lily used a Banishing Charm to knock him away, the summoning came to an end in a flare of light, and Jack the Ripper returned to existence. The infamous serial killer who had killed five prostitutes in London's East End, and may have killed more. Sagara made the mistake of gloating, before ordering Jack to kill Lily and Reika, not noticing that the Command Seals were not on his hand, but on Lily's.

In the bloody aftermath, Lily debated whether to remove Reika's memories or not, before deciding not to. Instead, the young prostitute had been sent with Kiritsugu, as he and Maiya were probably the best protectors for her in Japan. Yggdmillennia might come after her in revenge, though they knew better than to send someone after the Magus Killer, not while they were preparing for the Grail War.

Lily, however, was committed to the Great Holy Grail War now. Oh, she was hoping to be one of the Masters sent over, though she felt ambivalent about that. As much as she wanted revenge on James for what he did to her, she didn't want to die and leave Harry alone in the world, to say nothing of Remus, who was her new husband. Still, better her than, say, that pompous idiot Feend vor Sembren. He may have been a good Magus and academic, but she knew he'd be eaten alive out in the field. Look what happened to that pompous arse Kayneth Archibald, the late and very unlamented Lord El-Melloi. Kayneth was like Lucius Malfoy, only more skilled…but those didn't save him.

And now her son was. In fact, both of them probably were.

Lily knew that Clock Tower's hidebound higher-ups (not quite as hidebound as many wizards were, but still, there was the same conservative attitudes and snobbery) were reluctant to send her to Romania. It was why she had been left out of the fifty-man squad sent there to try and assassinate Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia (fuck that name), because they thought she was likely to act outside of orders. Which was odd, considering Sirius was going there. As it was, given Darnic's pompous missive sent to Clock Tower, Lily feared that those Enforcers would meet a sticky end. She hoped Sirius wouldn't be amongst them.

"If you're worried about your son, then don't," Tamamo said. "As his Servant, I am his protector. If anything, I'm as worried about his wellbeing as you are. Physically and psychologically. But he wants to fight."

"That's part of the problem," Lily hissed quietly. Not in anger, but in dismay. "Dumbledore and James basically raised him as a weapon, albeit as a decoy. That he survived his first five years at Hogwarts was a damned miracle! I'm surprised he's not suicidal, and I mean beyond having a reckless disregard for his own life! That's just his father's genetics! No, I'm surprised, given the treatment Petunia and Vernon put them through, to say nothing of Snivellous or Dumbledore, that he hasn't tried killing himself. While I can't honestly say that I'm a paragon of mental health, not after everything, Harry is worse. I want him to have as normal a life as he can."

"Maybe he's not meant to," Tamamo said with a shrug. "I don't know. But…it's his choice to make. Like with me. I may regret how things turned out, but I never regretted making the choice to become a mortal entity. Just…try to have a nice sleep. Hopefully, you'll both be a lot calmer in the morning…"

* * *

Tamamo's advice turned out to be spot on. There was still lingering resentment and anger, but the majority of it had been taken away by sleep, and the three of them were currently waiting for room service. After some rather reluctant but still somewhat sincere apologies were made (Harry didn't apologise for summoning Tamamo, only for attacking his mother verbally, and she appreciated that much at least), Harry said, "So…I've only seen your Command Seals, not Assassin. And didn't you say they were Jack the Ripper? Isn't that…well, dangerous, considering that they were a serial killer?"

"I thought so too, but…I spoke to her while you were gallivanting about, and Jackie is…well, misunderstood. If you've gained someone claiming to be your wife, then I've gained another child, a daughter."

"Wait, what? Jack the Ripper was a girl?"

"Not exactly. Her chosen form is a girl. Jackie? You can come out now."

Shimmering out of the air, sitting on her lap, was a sight that she could tell disturbed her son. The fact that Jack the Ripper appeared to be a girl in her early teens at the oldest, and more likely to be pre-teen, was shocking enough. Jackie had a short, rough bob of silver hair framing cute features, marred by a couple of scars. Her golden eyes peered at them curiously.

Of course, what was even more shocking was her apparel, little more than a vest and what looked like a G-string. It was indecent apparel at the best of times for an adult, but on a child, it was utterly obscene, and she intended to find a way to change that. The holsters with lots and lots of knives didn't help, either.

"Heavens me, what is with her costume?" Tamamo huffed.

"I don't know, but I think the Throne of Heroes must be a sick and twisted mind to dress her up like this," Lily said. "Jackie, please put on your cloak."

Jackie nodded. "Okay, Mummy," she said, before her tattered cloak appeared, and she nuzzled into Lily.

"Jack the Ripper…was a little girl, wearing some paedophile's fantasy outfit," Harry said flatly. "What the fuck?"

"Harry, mind your language in front of her, please. And she's not just a little girl. Think of her as a gestalt of the souls of children who fell through the cracks in Victorian England, the wraiths of children who died of hunger or murder on the streets of London…all of which coalesced into a single child who wanted to go back where it was warm…the womb." She stroked the girl's hair. "Hence why what she did to those prostitutes in London."

"We didn't like the bad man's mana," Jackie hissed suddenly. "It was all cold and poison, like the river, like the smog, choking us and burning us. But Mummy's mana…it was warm. We haven't been warm in so long. And she was protecting Miss Reika. So, we decided she would be our Master."

"Jackie's not inherently evil," Lily said quietly. "She didn't understand what she was doing was wrong, because the souls that made her up never lived long enough to develop any real sense of morality. That's why I think we can trust her. Besides, one less Servant on the side of the enemy is better than nothing, and while Assassins may be weak in terms of combat ability, they're still dangerous. Jackie has a number of dangerous skills, including the ability to erase information about her appearance and abilities from the minds of those she confronts, as well as an ability to summon a poisonous smog that enhances her main Noble Phantasm, Maria the Ripper."

"Scary," Tamamo remarked. "Do you want me to do something about those clothes, though? As a Caster, one of my skills is in Item Creation. I could potentially change her combat clothes, without affecting her ability to fight. How does that sound?"

Lily pursed her lips, and then looked down at Jackie. "What do you say, Jackie? Do you want new clothes?"

"As long as they're warm and easy to move around in, we're fine!" chirped the Assassin.

Tamamo smiled, before she waved a hand. The cloak around Jackie shifted and transformed, becoming a simple but warm-looking black shirt with a red hood. Instead of the ridiculously small underwear she wore before, she now wore leggings(1). Of course, she still had the holsters with a ridiculous array of knives and daggers, but that was par for the course.

"She actually looks a bit more like a normal kid now," Harry said. "Okay, so, what next? I mean, now that we've calmed down and all."

"We take a Portkey back to London to touch base with Waver and Rocco," Lily said. "Like it or not, both of us are stuck in this. I'm still not happy with this, but…"

Whatever she was going to say was interrupted by the chirruping of her phone, and she opened it up, to hear the distinct tones of Waver Velvet, sounding rather ruffled. " _Lily, this is Waver. We only just received a report from Emiya about what happened last night. Am I to understand that you are now the Master of the Assassin Yggdmillennia intended to summon?_ "

"Yes, Waver. I'm sorry about not sending an email report myself, but Harry and I had a bit of an argument, to say the least. He was the one who intercepted Gordes Musik Yggdmillennia and his people at the Ise Shrine. However, in the process, he became the Master of a Caster Servant. I was hoping to discuss the matter in person."

" _Very well. However, while taking Gordes into custody is a good thing, unfortunately, we've had bad news coming out of Romania_ ," Waver said, filling Lily's soul with cold dread. " _Only one Enforcer returned from Romania. Almost all of the others were killed by a Servant Darnic summoned, a Lancer or Rider that we believe to be Vlad the Impaler._ "

"…And Sirius?"

" _He wasn't killed. In fact, he was captured. I'm sorry, Lily, but Sirius Black is in the hands of the enemy_ …"

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Oh dear. Complications of all sorts have arisen, but why was Sirius captured alive? And Lily has Jackie!**

 **Now, the argument was partly there to show that, despite Harry and Lily loving each other, they also have a lot of contentious issues. Harry's still got a fuckton of anger issues, and he sees what Lily's doing as coddling, albeit not without reason. It's unfair to blame her, but he also has a point, just as she does, but unfortunately, he got more than a little unreasonable, and she stepped a bit too far in trying to get him to back down.**

 **1\. If you want an idea as to what Jackie is wearing instead of her obscene costume in canon, look up DalkonCledwin's** ** _Type-Moon Anthology_** **compilation of initial chapters. They have a cover picture of Jackie in a more age-appropriate outfit, which is what she will be wearing for this fic.**


	25. Beautiful Destruction Chapter 1

**So, this is an odd one, following so soon after I've posted _Love and War_ as a full story. However, I've been meaning to do a _Fate/Extella_ crossover for some time, and I was struggling with how I wanted to do it, as I'm only familiar with the one game in that particular neck of the Nasuverse woods. And even then, as of writing, I've only just started the Altera arc. But it was that very arc that inspired this story.**

 **My original idea was to have either Harry/Nero (which is still on the cards, so fans of "Umu!" need not despair) or Harry/Nero/Altera as the pairing (having used Tamamo for my _Fate/Apocrypha_ crossover), but this idea came to me in an odd moment, and I thought, why not?**

 **For those not familiar with _Fate/Extella: The Umbral Star_...well, spoiler warning, first and foremost. One of the main antagonists, albeit a somewhat ambiguous one, is Altera, the chosen name of an entity once known as Attila the Hun. Yes, Attila the Hun was a woman in the Nasuverse, this seems to happen a lot. But she's also an eldritch abomination created by a destructive force, the 'Umbral Star' of the game's subtitle, Velber. Without giving away too much, while her villainy is shown to be reluctant in the first two arcs, in the third arc...well, Altera is just bloody _adorable_. She has basically two forms (well, more than that... _spoilers_ , but only two are immediately relevant): a human-sized, extremely stoic 'Hero' avatar, the one seen in the previous arcs, and a massive form, known as the Titaness Altera, who is basically adorable and just a nice and somewhat sheltered person who is unfortunately an embodiment of destruction. And keeping you captive in the cave that acts as her home, but still...given how much Tamamo acted like a bitch in the second arc, Altera was a refreshing change.**

 **Anyway, I've adapted her backstory for this story, whereupon she is sealed on Earth, under Azkaban, in a prison that she herself cannot escape, although she can project her avatar at times outside her prison. The Moon Cell doesn't exist in this story, and I've probably screwed up her backstory, but still, I want to distill the essence of Altera for this story, making her recognisably Altera, but allowing her to fit into the Potterverse.**

 **Whether this gets made into a full story remains to be seen, especially so soon after I have started _Love and War_ , and it may be a long time before this is published, if it is at all. But I think this is a nice concept that could be developed into a full story. In fact, the whole oubliette thing was that, if I wanted to, I could write a story with a flawed but good Dumbledore, rather than a bashable one. I'm probably going for the former in the full story, if it gets written.**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoy...**

* * *

 _ **BEAUTIFUL DESTRUCTION**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **THE TITANESS**

To say a place was Hell on Earth was a cliché so often used, people often forgot what it meant. Appellations of this kind were appended to places ranging from the harshest deserts to the coldest tundra. Prisons were popularly given this sort of name. But one that was perhaps one of the closest to emulating Hell on Earth was Azkaban.

To most people, the word Azkaban would mean little. But to the magical community of the United Kingdom, it was a name spoken of in awe, fear, and dread. A pimple of an island in the frigid seas off Britain's coast, isolated and cold. There were worse prisons in the world of magic (Nurmengard, the legendary prison of Grindlewald, for example), and even some in the mundane world, but Azkaban was close to the top.

Even before it became a prison for Magical Britain, it had been the lair of one of the darkest of wizards, Ekrizdis. His name isn't known to many modern wizards, but in his time, he was feared, using Azkaban as a fortress to lure Muggle sailors to the concealed island to torture and experiment on. Only with his death did the charms concealing the island fall, and the Ministry investigated. To this day, it's not known exactly what happened.

The thing that made Azkaban truly awful was not the cold or the isolation, or its dark and obscure history. It was the guards. Dementors, hideous wraith-like beings who were said to grow from dark and decaying places, creatures who existed to suck good feelings from anyone near their influence. The Ministry of Magic trusted them enough to remain as guards, but truth be told, the Dementors had no loyalties, save to themselves. They stayed as guards and wardens of Azkaban only because it meant they could feed off the feelings of prisoners.

And, occasionally, feed off their souls. For the Wizarding World, the ultimate penalty was the Dementor's Kiss, whereby the Dementor would consume the soul of the malcontent. The condemned would still be alive, but they would be in a condition where they would envy a vegetable. A vessel, even emptier than the Dementors themselves, capable of breathing, and virtually nothing else.

The Ministry of Magic was keen to stamp out any rumours that Dementors had fed on souls without permission. The truth was, however, that having the Dementors as guards of Azkaban was a Mephistophelean deal. If they ever received a better offer, they'd be gone in a trice.

The prisoners of Azkaban counted as their number the infamous. Many of them were Death Eaters, Lord Voldemort's fanatical supporters. A few had gone to Azkaban cheerfully holding onto their loyalty for the Dark Lord. But one had gone to Azkaban in a fall that was spectacular.

Of course, neither he nor those who imprisoned it knew it, but Azkaban held a secret, a secret he would stumble upon. A secret that had been hidden for millennia. A secret that ensured that the fate of Britain, if not the world, lay in the hands of a teenager who had just been betrayed by the government who supposedly governed over him…

* * *

Consciousness came back to him slowly, and with it, memory came back, perhaps a trifle faster than consciousness. In a way, Harry Potter would have preferred the reverse. It meant that, instead of waking from a nightmare, he knew he would be waking into one.

His fourth year at Hogwarts. The fifteenth year of his life had been one of his most arduous yet, thanks to that bastard Barty Crouch Junior entering him into the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Alienated by many students at Hogwarts, even one of his oldest friends for a time, he also had to find ways to complete the Tasks, and survive.

And then, during the Third Task, he and Cedric took the trophy, knowing it was a Portkey…but not knowing its destination, in a graveyard. Cedric was killed, and Harry was made an unwilling spectator and, thanks to his blood, even more unwilling participant in the revival of Voldemort. This was an encounter that he barely escaped with his life.

But if that weren't bad enough, then fucking Fudge had to come along with a Dementor in tow, with said Dementor giving Crouch Junior the Kiss. And he refused to even consider the possibility that Voldemort might be back. Hermione, who had been present at the time, had made things worse. Oh, with the best of intentions, and while he was angry at her, he also knew that she was trying to get Fudge to think logically. Unfortunately, when she demanded to know who Fudge thought had killed Barty Crouch Senior and Cedric…upon which Fudge immediately arrested Harry(1).

Harry barely remembered the trip to Azkaban, spending much of it either reliving his mother's murder, or being tormented by a hideous toad woman by the name of Umbridge. But he remembered her gloating as she pretended to be nice, leading him away from the maximum security areas of Azkaban (and thus the Dementors), and to a basement…only to open a door, leading into a chamber with a hole in the middle, a hole that seemed to radiate an absolute darkness, thick and tangible. And as he was dragged to the hole, he remembered her gloating.

"Hem, hem. _Do you know what this is, you lying brat? This is the Oubliette, something that has been around since Azkaban was rediscovered. Nothing that goes in ever comes out._ _ **Nothing**_ _. Indeed, the word 'oubliette', apparently, means 'to forget'. Over the years, more than a few people have been consigned to its depths, people whom it was best to forget about. And we can't have you spreading lies about our greatest benefactor, Lord Malfoy. His money is needed. You are a mentally unstable child, and even if the Dark Lord is back…well, less filthy Muggles and Muggleborns in the world is only a good thing. Fudge doesn't know this has happened…and what he doesn't know won't hurt him._ "

With that, he was hurled into the depths before he could utter any kind of retort. He remembered falling, falling, falling…before finally, an impact jarred him into oblivion. Not that of death, thankfully, but unconsciousness. Then again, given Umbridge's gloating, maybe he had nothing to look forward to but a long period of starvation, before he finally perished.

He was expecting to feel a pile of bones or stone under his body. Or perhaps the body of some vast beast, ready to eat him. He wasn't expecting…was he on top of coins?

His eyes opened, and he found himself, like Edmond Dantes opening up the treasure he would use to become the Count of Monte Cristo, bedazzled.

The cave was vast, filled to the brim with coins, gems, and treasures of all kinds. It seemed like a treasure cave of some pirate king, filled with loot and plunder, or perhaps the treasure house of some giant in a fairytale. And not just that, but the cave didn't just feel full of treasure. It felt, oddly, warm and welcoming. A bit bleak, but it wasn't so bad.

He then noticed the strange altar, and realised that his earlier thought of this being like a treasure house of some giant from a fairytale was not wholly inaccurate. For, sitting on this altar was a giant figure. Something unreal, surreal…and yet, surprisingly, he was not as afraid as he could have been.

For this giant appeared to be a woman of some kind.

She had to be at least five storeys tall, her frame both surprisingly slender, and yet having a strange air of athletic strength, as if all the flesh beneath her skin was muscle. Her skin was dark, not as dark as, say, an African's, but a tanned tone that put him in mind of the East, with elaborate geometrical lines picked out in white along parts of her body. Oddly, her hair, reaching down to her waist, was a pure snow white, framing surprisingly beautiful features. Blood red eyes peered at him not with hostility, but with curiosity, even worry…for himself. Her outfit was ridiculously skimpy: aside from a shawl that put him in mind of a wedding veil, a breast band that covered fairly small breasts, and something that could have been called a G-string, she wore very little, and he found himself blushing. She looked like she could have been in her early twenties, perhaps her late teens.

The thing he got from her, though, was not hostility, but curiosity, concern, perhaps a little wariness. Which seemed odd, considering that she was a giant. He may still have his magic, even if it'd be trickier to use it sans wand, but he knew, with a strange instinct, that it would do little good. It wasn't that she was frightened of him per se, he knew. Rather, she was worried about his reaction.

And then, she spoke. Oddly enough, her voice didn't boom or roar around the cavern. It was surprisingly soft and quiet, a gentle tone, as if she was a normal person standing right next to him, only the echoes betraying the true size of the speaker. "Ah…you're awake. While I have done my best to ensure a soft landing, I'm afraid that a few new arrivals land rather awkwardly. It has been some time since I shared my prison with another."

"…Your prison?" Harry asked.

"Yes. This domain is my prison. It has been for many thousands of years, and while I can, at times, bring a part of myself into existence in the world outside, I myself am imprisoned here. Hmm…you seem to be fairly comfortable with talking with me." A faint smile, a tentative smile, a genuine smile touched her lips. "I am glad. Most of those who come attack, out of fear or anger, or perhaps just a desire for oblivion. It gets lonely down here."

"…Am I still dreaming?"

"No. You are, admittedly, only perceiving a certain type of reality, to prevent your mind from tearing itself apart if it perceived the truth. I…made something of an impact on this world many thousands of years ago in more ways than one, and even if perceiving my true form does not stir up a race memory of what happened, it would most certainly repulse you, or at least frighten you. This is my preferred form."

"…An almost naked woman?" Harry asked, probably unwisely.

"It was the form I had in one of the lives I had outside my prison," the giantess said. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I haven't even introduced myself. Then again, I don't know your name, either."

"…It's Harry. Harry Potter."

"…Harry…Potter…hmm…" She seemed to contemplate the name for a time, before she looked to him once more. "Then you may call me…Altera. It is the name I prefer."

"…Altera," Harry said, rolling the name around his own tongue. It seemed…fitting, even beautiful. He then looked up at Altera. "Altera…are you a giant?"

"No. Not the ones you are thinking of. Many of those who dropped in here made a similar mistake," Altera said, looking oddly self-conscious about her size. She seemed even embarrassed by it, and Harry chided himself for his tactlessness. "Many called me, at the time, the White Titan, so I believe you can call me a Titaness."

"Ah. And that is…what?"

"A long story. One I know that will have you hate me. Few looked upon me with any favour when I revealed what I was."

Harry nodded. But he didn't feel the urge to escape, or at least not from her, oddly enough. Rather, he felt the urge to escape, to try and stop Voldemort, because without him, what would happen to his friends? "…And you can't escape?"

"At best, I can project an avatar of myself, to act amongst the living, but I can only do that under certain circumstances," Altera said. "However, I cannot move beyond the event horizon of this domain. And neither can anyone who is thrown in. Perhaps it is just as well. I am destruction embodied. I am Altera, the Destroyer. Where I tread, I leave nothing but dust and darkness. And I find that…disagreeable(2)."

Harry stared up at her. This Titaness, this rather demure, even slightly shy woman (he found her shyness odd, given her rather skimpy dress), called herself a destroyer. And he wondered, what exactly had he gotten himself into? And could he get out of it?

He didn't know it, but ironically, it was the start of a beautiful friendship, one that would destroy one threat to the world entirely, and change another…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. In the Nasuverse, Altera's prison is in the Moon Cell. Here, it's a physical prison on Earth. And Harry's been thrown into it. Oh dear…**

 **1\. I admittedly took a cue from robst, particularly his fic** ** _Don't Look Back in Anger_** **, so assume it starts off in a similar manner.**

 **2\. Altera is quoting, to a degree, Sutekh's little monologue in the classic** ** _Doctor Who_** **story** ** _Pyramids of Mars_** **. Sutekh, however, finds his own destruction 'good', and even says before the monologue, in response to the Doctor calling him 'evil', retorts that the Doctor's evil is his good. There'll be a few other bits I lift from that particular story, as you'll see in the next chapter…**


	26. Beautiful Destruction Chapter 2

**I'm pleasantly surprised by the positive reaction the first chapter got. I have to confess, though, I'm not sure whether this will become a full story, especially as it will pretty much boil down to Altera and possibly a bunch of Servants kicking Death Eater arse, and character interaction. Not much actual _plot_. That being said, there's still a possibility that it may become its own story. I'm also working, as mentioned before, on a Harry/Nero story, but whether that will get off the ground is another matter...**

 **Anyway, enjoy the next chapter of _Beautiful Destruction_...**

* * *

 _ **BEAUTIFUL DESTRUCTION**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **UNLEASHED**

 _A little over two years later_ …

There is a legend known to those who study the arcane lore of prehistory. The legend of the Umbral Star, Velber, and its herald, the White Titan Sephyr. It's a legend surprisingly supported by science, if only because there was evidence for the mass extinctions that occurred about 14 millennia ago, albeit one of many such mass extinctions happening during the end of the Pleistocene Era. This extinction was chalked down by the scientific community (albeit not without reason: they were right about the reasons for other extinctions in the geological ballpark) to climate change caused by the end of the Ice Age, as well as other factors.

In truth, like more than a few harbingers of extinction, the cause came from space. But not in the form of a meteorite that struck with apocalyptic force. Rather, something landed, and then began spreading death and destruction in its wake.

When people speak of the fall of Atlantis, they usually think it was due to the hubris of its natives. However, Atlantis was but one of the ancient civilisations that was decimated by Sephyr. Mu, Hyperborea, Lemuria, all fell to Sephyr's rampage…though in truth, Sephyr was an entity bound to do its job. In truth, even as its body destroyed, its mind was asking of itself, _Why? Why? Why?_

Of course, this meant little to Sephyr's victims, who finally managed to band together and find a way to destroy it, or at least disable it. The body was struck down on an island off the coast of the country that would eventually become Great Britain. Part of the body, struck by the blast of the weapon fired at it, flew into the distance, eventually landing in a part of Western Europe that, one day, would be taken over by the Huns. About twelve and a half thousand years later, said Huns would stumble across it…and find a baby girl, whom their elders would name Attila. A name she would come to detest, but that's getting ahead of ourselves.

The gathered people who had managed to fell Sephyr knew that killing it might not be possible in the limited time they had, so, using arcane magic that was soon forgotten to the world, they imprisoned Sephyr in another dimension, deep within the island that would later become known as Azkaban. To maintain this other dimension, a power source of sorts was created, but in order to try and prevent any attempt at a breakout, the power source was taken as far away from Britain as the bearers could.

They arrived in what is now called Egypt, where a culture was arising. There, a small group were recruited, to guard a tomb of sorts, a tomb that would later be the inspiration for the tombs of the pharaohs many thousands of years later. From generation to generation, these tomb-keepers kept the power source, which had been tastelessly dubbed the Heart of the Titan, secret and safe, even as the line of the pharaohs changed from Egyptian to Greek, the advent of the Romans, the Muslim Caliphate, and the Ottoman Empire, all the way to the modern day. Indeed, for the past century, Gringotts had cooperated with these tomb-keepers to keep the Heart of the Titan safe.

That being said, they grew complacent. Surely the legends about Sephyr were exaggerations? Surely Velber and its malign influence was gone for good? And even if they were true…surely nobody would be stupid enough to unleash an entity that was destruction embodied?

Well, there were people stupid or desperate enough to try. Not Gellert Grindlewald. Grindlewald wanted to rule the world, not its ashes, and he had at least a sense for the most part in determining whether he was biting off more than he could chew. Not that it stopped his downfall, but he at least tended to think things through, even at his most arrogant.

Voldemort, however, was another matter. When he read fragments of the legends of Velber and its herald, he decided that this was something that warranted further investigation. As long as he had a world to rule and subjects to dominate, he didn't care if much of the world was ashes. Indeed, he hoped to be Velber's hand on Earth. But to do that, he needed to get a hold of Sephyr…

* * *

While he never learned where Sephyr itself was, he did learn where the Heart of the Titan was kept. After his attempt to pilfer the prophecy Snape half-heard failed, Voldemort spent time considering his options. He suspected that Dumbledore was hunting down his Horcruxes, and Voldemort needed an edge. The Boy Who Lived's incarceration and subsequent disappearance had brought the morale of Magical Britain to an all-time low, and Fudge, within months, had found himself facing no-confidence motions, despite Malfoy et al's best efforts to keep him there. Amelia Bones ascended, with Rufus Scrimgeour taking her place as head of the DMLE, and together, they were rather vexingly competent, though he took some comfort in knowing that Dumbledore got short shrift with her for his secrecy. Indeed, the Order of the Phoenix had suffered a schism of some kind. One part had gotten considerably more militant, or at least had dropped using non-lethal spells almost all the time.

Which was why he, along with some of his trusted followers, were in Egypt. He had to admit, the tomb-keepers and their lackeys from Gringotts had fought well. It was both aggravating and yet admirable. But now, he was in the chamber with the Heart of the Titan, waiting for his own cursebreakers to finish unravelling the wards and curses surrounding it. It was painfully slow work, and he was sure the Egyptian Ministry had sent people to intercept him.

They would be too late, though. The fools in charge of this tomb had gotten complacent and hadn't renewed the wards as often as they should. And then, he sensed them break, so he advanced on the altar upon which the Heart of the Titan awaited.

Even in his twisted, mutilated soul, Voldemort felt that it looked beautiful. A crystalline structure, resembling a Fabergé Egg, glowing softly with blue light. The height of Atlantean thaumatology, created with the last of their resources, everything else having been shattered with the island nation. It drew upon the local leylines, and transmitted the power elsewhere. It would be a genuine shame to destroy it.

But, as the cliché went, you couldn't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.

The expression Voldemort made as he cast Fiendfyre was surprisingly rueful. The Heart of the Titan lasted for a few minutes under the cursed fire, before finally melting down. The only noise it emitted as it finally died was a faint, mournful warble. _This is the way the world ends_ , Voldemort thought, quoting from a poem he had rammed into his skull during his time at the orphanage. _Not with a bang, but with a whimper_.

Surprisingly, he didn't scream out in triumph. This was only part of his plan, and destroying the Heart of the Titan was only part of the plan. He needed to find Sephyr, though he reckoned the White Titan would be easy enough to find, given time. You couldn't keep such an entity of destruction secret for long. And he had followers ready back home, just in case he got lucky, and the White Titan was somewhere in Britain.

Still, the White Titan had been trapped for quite a long time. For all Voldemort knew, it was either dead (from starvation, from the injuries it sustained during the final battle, or, for all he knew, of boredom from being cooped up in a prison for so long). Or perhaps it was sleeping, waiting the day when its purpose came anew.

He didn't know how right he was, even if it was for the wrong reasons…

* * *

Those who had entered the cave of the White Titan, Sephyr, would have been mistaken for thinking that three people were present, instead of the two who actually were. Then again, considering that Sephyr could create an avatar body she could control, it shouldn't have been surprising to any who knew her. Then again, who would take the time to know her? Few who met her did. And she preferred to be called Altera rather than Sephyr or Attila the Hun.

Three figures reclined within the cave. The first gigantic one was the chosen form of Altera, based on her appearance in life as Attila the Hun, reclining on an altar in her usual clothing. An identical, but far smaller, figure was curled up, naked, next to an equally naked young man in his late teens, both on a bed of animal skins and other things.

It had been a long and somewhat bumpy road at times that led them to this point. Harry's reaction to being trapped with an entity of destruction hadn't been a good one, rather understandably. After all, leaving aside the fact that she was an entity of destruction, he was also trapped while Voldemort could be doing Merlin knew what to his friends. What followed were weeks of arguments and bitter, poisonous words. However, once the resignation crept in, and Harry resolved to make the best of the situation, things got gradually better. It helped that he realised that, while Altera was destruction embodied, she didn't want to destroy all the time.

And in truth, it would be a moot point. Her link to the Umbral Star had been severed, not due to her imprisonment, but rather, due to the destruction of Velber itself. It seemed impossible, and yet, it had happened, at about the time that a fragment of Sephyr was found by the Huns, and awoke as Attila. Harry got the impression from his fellow prisoner (Altera had called him this on more than one occasion, to the point it became an affectionate nickname rather than an insult) that she was actually relieved, due to the fact that she wouldn't be pestered by Velber into destroying. Destruction was her original purpose, built into her very nature…but perhaps there was hope now to change that.

They had grown close, their friendship surprisingly easy once the rancour between them had died down. Then again, they only had each other for company, and Harry found her far easier to deal with than the Dursleys. In her life as Attila, she had been surprisingly well-read for an infamous destroyer of civilisation, so they did speak on a number of subjects. And she wasn't ignorant. On occasion, she could, with an effort, project the very avatar Harry was embracing into the outside world, albeit only for a few hours at most, given the barrier. She dressed in appropriate clothing of course, her favoured outfit being dark shorts, a shirt and a dark jacket that made her look vaguely punkish, complete with a logo on the shirt that read 'GOOD OR BAD CIVILISATION(1)'.

It was on Harry's 18th birthday, though, that they realised that they had grown beyond mere friendship. Harry could tell what the date and time was outside with a _Tempus_ spell. They had celebrated with food Altera had summoned. Her abilities as Sephyr, oddly enough, allowed her to create things she had experienced in life, or as her avatar. Which was good, as Harry didn't particularly want to die of starvation or thirst, at least once the initial rancour between them fell away.

In any case, on his birthday, they realised what they meant to each other. There was the age difference, true, but Harry reckoned, given that he was now eighteen, and his paramour was a probably immortal Titaness, it seemed like a moot point. At least the size difference could be solved with the avatar, though he intended to see if there were any spells that could either shrink her, or else enlarge him.

Her eyes flickered open first, those on her Titaness form. Her avatar's eyes opened as well, a little groggily considered the previous night's activities, before she sat up, and crimson eyes, identical save for size, met each other. The avatar disappeared in a swirl of orange and black particles, even as Harry roused from his own post-coital slumber. He sat up, noting the absence of the avatar, and then looked up at Altera. "Good morning," he said.

"A very good morning, Harry," she said, with a radiant smile on her face, before holding out her hand. Draping one of the animal skins around him (he knew she was used to seeing him naked in the couple of weeks since his birthday, but still…), he stepped onto it, marvelling as she gently raised him to eye level. He noted that she seemed very happy today, even through her usual quiet, demure nature. "Harry…it seems that you have a belated birthday present, my fellow prisoner. Indeed, we both have."

Harry felt a bloom of hope in his chest. "…And what's that?" he asked, scarcely daring to hope.

"I feel it…the bindings on my person, this Oubliette…they're weakening." At this, Altera frowned. "Even in my bound state, I could hear the mages boasting of it lasting for so long. The Heart of the Titan may not be my real heart, but it would last as long as I did as long as it was coupled with the right leyline. Unless the leyline was drained somehow, the only way this could have happened is if the Heart of the Titan had been destroyed."

"…Does this mean we can escape?"

"What do you mean **_we_** , Prisoner?" Altera said with narrowed eyes, before smiling. "Sorry, I was trying a joke I've been working on for if we ever had the opportunity. In hindsight, it seems like the Bad Civilisation type of joke."

"Well, it certainly wasn't funny," Harry said, with an irritated look that was a little exaggerated. He knew Altera would never abandon him like that.

"Hmm. Well, we can certainly escape within a short period, an hour at most. I'll be honest, I've grown attached to this cave," Altera said. "A prison it may have been…but in a perverse way, it also has been the only home I've truly known. But…Azkaban is Bad Civilisation. To confine prisoners away from civilisation is Good Civilisation, true, but unless they truly are the worst of the worst, well, Dementors are rather excessive. To use one of my 'children' as guards…"

Harry nodded. Dementors, he had learned from Altera, were one of the possible outcomes of humans corrupted by her form as Sephyr. She had learned to control that corruption she exuded over the years, and now, even in her true form, could not corrupt or destroy unless she wanted to. He remembered his first sight of her true form, of the eerily elongated limbs and fingers, the holes in her hands and chest looking like portals to another universe, the pale blue skin, the eerie golden eyes…the face, so much like Altera herself. He found a profound fear stirring within him, partly due to a race memory of Sephyr's rampage across the world.

And yet, as frightening as Sephyr was, she was also utterly beautiful, albeit in an alien way. And she was actually part of Altera, after all.

"Well, I'd better get dressed, then," Harry said. "But where will we go?"

She obligingly let her hand down, and as he dressed, she continued. "I've been considering that for some time. My avatar has been on excursions to the world outside, picking out potential bases of operations should I ever be freed. With your arrival, I also had to ensure it would be appropriate for you. There is a cave chamber called the Frozen Deep in the Reservoir Hole in Somerset. My avatar has been making preparations to ensure the Muggles and wizards alike do not stumble across it. She has even managed to prepare a Portkey for this day. As much as I would love to be out in the open, I doubt the world would take kindly to a sixteen metre woman striding around with impunity. I'm not sure whether a nuclear weapon could harm me, but I wouldn't like to test it. I've come to enjoy living, though it has taken me time to do so. You've helped me enjoy it even more, Harry."

"Hmm. Well, hopefully, we can both find happiness without you having to fulfil your function, now that Velber no longer exists," Harry said. "So, are we going straight there?"

"No. Azkaban will be destroyed. That is why I have sent my avatar away. I am currently clearing out Azkaban of the inmates whose only sins were either petty ones, or else to fall afoul of Fudge and his cronies," Altera said. "The same for the guards. But those who are left that are marked Death Eaters…they will be the first to feel my wrath. Xenophobia is Bad Civilisation."

It was sort of a running gag for her, dubbing things as Good or Bad Civilisation. It was sort of a joke for her, these days. "And Azkaban and the Dementors?" Harry asked.

"Three words: Teardrop Photon Ray," Altera said with a smirk.

That smirk was answered by Harry's own. Oh, this was going to be good…

* * *

"…You people have been chosen to reveal my existence to the world. You will witness what happens today, and you will tell of it later," Altera's avatar said to the gathered Aurors and prisoners on the rocky shores of Azkaban, pausing briefly to smack down one unwise Dementor that hadn't seen the example she had made of its fellows. Then again, she was sure that her audience were staring as her Sword of Mars' rainbow-coloured blade suddenly elongated into a whip-like rope that slashed the Dementor in two.

In the silence that followed (well, filled only by the sound of the ocean and the shrieks of frustrated Dementors), a woman asked, "Wait, isn't that from _The Boondock Saints?_ "

"…No it isn't," Altera lied. She had seen the film on a whim nearly a decade ago, and found some parts appealing. Including the lines. Continuing, she said, "It is your corrupt I claim, it is your evil that will be sought by me. With every breath…"

"No, that's definitely _The Boondock Saints_ ," the woman said. "Do you watch that movie religiously or something(2)?"

Altera stared at the woman flatly. Of all the Aurors sent here on assignment, she had to get one with a Muggleborn who watched movies. Then again, Muggleborns had frequently been assigned for the shitty jobs. Mentally, she thought, _Fuck it_. Out loud, she moved onto the climax of her speech. "Watch and learn." With that, she turned her backs to them, knowing none of them would lift a finger against her. The few who did, she knocked out, though one who fired Unforgivables at her…well, she sliced him in half and kicked him into the ocean for the sharks to feast on.

" _Life I treasure, but civilisation, I destroy_ ," she intoned in Hunnic, the tongue she had spoken in her life as Attila, before unleashing the full power of the Sword of Mars. She pointed its pommel at the stormy sky, and a ray of light lanced into the sky. As strange symbols appeared in the sky, she roared, " _Sword of Mars, unleash your fury! TEARDROP PHOTON RAY!_ "

A blast of light smashed down through the symbols, spreading into a massive rain of light that smashed into Azkaban, annihilating it. Stone which had stood for centuries was turned to dust in an instant, the Dementors having time for one last shriek of fury and fear before they too were annihilated. She felt they deserved a slower demise, as did many of the inmates left inside the jail, but this was about making a statement. A declaration of war.

And for once, she actually revelled in the destruction she caused. It was a dangerous feeling. A seductive feeling. Just before she allowed herself to come back to her true body, she turned to the gathered people, and smiled. A few of them fainted. "What are you?" whispered one man.

"Destruction. Whether it comes for you all, or just the rot in your society, depends on you." She then allowed herself to fade, knowing that this was not the end, save of her imprisonment. It was the beginning of something new…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Voldemort's just unleashed a can of whoopass that has his name on it…not that he knows it yet. The whole power source/key being separate from the prison came from the** ** _Doctor Who_** **story** ** _Pyramids of Mars_** **. That's a great story, and if anyone reading this is a Whovian who has only watched the new series, watch this story at least.**

 **Also, Harry and Altera are now paired. I honestly don't have the patience at the moment to write a slow-burn romance, so take it as read that it happened gradually over the two years or so that Harry's been imprisoned with Altera. We might have some flashbacks. I'm of the mindset that, before the age of 18, the pairings should be of relatively equivalent ages, but when you've got somewhat larger gaps, as long as the youngest party is either over 18, or acts and looks like it and is artificial (Irisviel is one example), I'm okay with it. So we have an eighteen year old Harry paired with a millennia-old Titaness who happened to be Attila the Hun. Yikes.**

 **Also, I don't have a thing for many of the more extreme fetishes around giantesses, so we're not seeing any of that. Harry's either going to sleep with her avatar, or else find a way to shrink her or grow himself. Please, no jokes. I don't want to ruin the sweetness of their relationship.**

 **With the** ** _Boondock Saints_** **gag, I've dated this story to about August 2008, eleven years ahead of Potterverse canon.**

 **1\. This is Altera's alternate costume from** ** _Fate/Extella_** **. Quite frankly, while she might turn a few heads on the streets of London looking like that, she'd still look fairly normal.**

 **2\. I pinched this gag from the first episode of** ** _Hellsing Ultimate Abridged_** **.**


	27. Of Empresses, Saints, Heroes, and Chap 1

**Whether _Beautiful Destruction_ becomes a full story is still up in the air...but I'm sure you'll like this other potential Potterverse/Nasuverse crossover. As with _Love and War_ , it's primarily a _Fate/Apocrypha_ crossover with Harry being paired with a _Fate/Extra_ character. Unlike _Love and War_ , there's no WBWL elements, little bashing of Potterverse characters (save for some retrospective bashing of Dumbledore), Harry doesn't get a Servant, ends up having to babysit Jeanne, and there's no extra Servants. Wait, what? No extra Servants? How can this be? Well, I took the same trope I used for the possible story _King of His Heart_ and the published story _Knight of Betrayal and Taiga Cub_...and applied it to another Saberface character. No prizes for guessing who that is, but if you need a hint...well, it's obvious, umu!**

* * *

 _ **OF EMPRESSES, SAINTS, HEROES AND WIZARDS**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **REVIVAL**

 _The lovely young woman looked at the bottle of liquid dubiously. Tears ran down her face from beautiful pale green eyes. "Umu…so, you say that if I drink this, I will fall into a slumber I may never wake from?"_

 _"Yes. We will keep your body safe and hidden_ , princeps. _Perhaps one day, when the infamy around your reign has ended, you can be awoken, and find what you seek. Otherwise, you will be in the embrace of Somnus forever, until Mors takes you into Pluto's embrace. But the enchantments on that potion will keep you alive while you slumber, perhaps even as long as your august great-uncle Claudius' memoirs(_ _1)_ _."_

 _The woman smiled sadly. "I never truly agreed with what Mother did to him, feeding him those mushrooms. I liked him. Uncle Cl-Cl-Claudius, wiser than he seemed. I think he knew what she intended, and ate them anyway. I didn't understand why until now. I don't regret being an emperor…but to be an emperor is to walk a tightrope. I can see why he wrote those scrolls and buried them. Umu…well, this seems like a medicine for all my ills. No more headaches, perhaps the best night's sleep I have had for years…even if it may never end._ Qualis artifex pereo. _What an artist perishes with me." With that, she drank the bottle, grimaced at the taste, and then lay back on the bed._

 _The man who gave her the bottle then took off his cloak, and draped it over her body. "Umu…too late," the woman said quietly, her voice beginning to slur as her eyes drooped shut. "This…is…loyalty…"_

 _And then, her eyes closed. Soon, there would be rejoicing at the death of a tyrant, by suicide. History would distort the matter, by claiming that she was actually a man, and that she had perished by suicide using a sword. In truth, it was a lonely girl, one who once stood astride the known world, now lying, dead, at the age of thirty, at a time of her life when she should have been enjoying it. It seemed like a beautiful flame had been snuffed from the world. In truth, the flame was being kept hidden, away from eyes that would judge her._

 _Her empire rose, then crumbled and fell. The religion she had been pressured to persecute became a dominant power in the world, and the Roman gods died off. Her life was twisted and distorted into the history books, not bothering to try and learn more about the person behind the history._

 _But the rose of Rome, the Flower of Olympia, would bloom once again, and have a second chance…_

* * *

The darkness was very much Stygian, an almost physical thing that filled space, Harry reflected as they moved through the catacombs underneath Rome. This was probably his first major work for Gringotts as a cursebreaker, having done more minor jobs, effectively apprenticing under Bill and Fleur, once Britain had gotten too much for the three of them. Too much fame and infamy, not enough privacy or space to spread his wings, so to speak.

Oddly enough, this cursebreaker work was done not in Egypt or the Middle East, which was where most of Gringotts' operations happened, but deep beneath Rome. He felt a little ill at ease doing this, as it meant leaving the Delacours' estates, and thus his seclusion. Then again, Gabby was getting a bit too clingy lately. He much preferred that Squib friend of hers, Laeticia, and even then, he wasn't sure he liked her religious ways. Laeticia wasn't truly pushy with her religion, but she and Harry had had a number of disagreements about God and His existence or lack thereof.

Still, this was surprisingly interesting. They were currently looking through what was once the mausoleum of the Domitii Ahenobarbi, or rather, a deep, hidden part of it, which had been heavily warded off. And having just broken through those rather nasty wards, he and Bill were currently making their way through the passageway very carefully.

The reason for the significance of this find was that this mausoleum had been the burial place of the former Emperor Nero. Nero's birth name, according to Hermione (who did consultancy work with them when she wasn't working at Clock Tower, of all places!), was Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus. Nero was just part of his regnal name, the name he took to rule. So this was a potentially interesting find, if only because they might be able to find the mortal remains of Nero.

Thinking back to Hermione, Harry wondered how she was doing working with Magi. Magi were considerably more amoral than wizards, at least in general, and their magic, while more customisable than wizarding magic and more energy efficient, was also much harder to use. She lucked out in becoming an assistant to Lord El-Melloi II, one of the more progressive Magi, but still, it was hard for her to advance, though at least Magi were more meritocratic than wizards. To some degree, anyway.

Ron had married Luna, and already, they had a few kids. Harry, however, was content to lead a single life, at least for now. He needed to find a woman who would fall in love with him for reasons other than his fame or finances.

As they made their way through the dark passages, lit only by Lumos spells, Bill asked, "Did you ever hear of the Nero Redivivus legends?'

"No, and I get the feeling you're going to tell me," Harry snarked.

"Hmm. Supposedly, Nero was said to still be alive, having fled to Parthia, part of what's now called Iran. There were certainly many impostors. A bit like the pretenders claiming to be one of the Princes in the Tower during Henry VII's reign. Some Biblical scholars who link Nero to the Beast from the Book of Revelations point to that legend as part of it." Bill frowned to himself. "That being said…all those wards…you wouldn't put those up just to protect treasure. They weren't particularly dark or malicious like some of the Egyptian ones, though many of those were Egyptian, as well as Greek, Roman, even some old Etruscan stuff. It was more like stuff meant to deter people rather than kill them."

"But why?" Harry asked.

"Good question, to which I don't know the answer. And it's not the sort of thing to lure people into a false sense of security, either. Romans tended to go for overkill when they warded tombs, taking after the Egyptians. If a would-be tomb raider wasn't turned into giblets, then it definitely wasn't enough," Bill remarked. "Ah, we're here."

They ended up in a chamber that, oddly enough, seemed rather different to the other tombs they passed through. It seemed…oddly grander somehow, even if that grandeur had faded. However, the main feature their eyes were, understandably, drawn to was the glass-covered bier. After all, it had a body on it, seemingly fresh, despite the age of the mausoleum.

Bill frowned, looking at the inscriptions that were displayed in both Latin and Greek, the latter language actually being a _lingua franca_ in Rome. "…Here lies Lucia Domitius Ahenobarbus, who was known by her regal name of Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, the fifth Imperator of Rome. Here she sleeps in rest eternal, until the time has come for her to wake once more," he translated.

"Sounds a bit messianic," Harry said, frowning as he peered at the woman on the bier. "But Nero was a guy, wasn't he?"

"…Actually, there's a few sources, earlier than Suetonius, that claim that Nero was a woman," Bill said. "They're not generally known to Muggle scholars. Apparently King Arthur and Mordred were women too, according to the writings of Merlin."

Harry's frown deepened as he peered at the young woman lying on the bier. She seemed to be in her twenties, utterly beautiful, if somewhat short. Her hair was a beautiful golden colour, with a little cowlick sticking out like an antenna, her braiding making it look like she was wearing a laurel wreath the same colour as her hair. She was dressed in a red, vaguely militaristic dress with epaulettes, though her dress also showed a wonderful view of her cleavage…and a transparent front to her skirt showed her legs…and her underwear. This was Nero? The infamous tyrannical emperor? He could even see dried tear tracks on her face. She looked like no demon empress, but rather, a fallen angel.

"How come she's so well-preserved?" Harry asked. "Is there a stasis charm or something on the bier?"

"Maybe…but I'm detecting some other charms," Bill said, waving his wand. "Regenerative charms…her body's about your age now, Harry, but she was thirty when she committed suicide. She's alive, though she's also in stasis. Huh…something not unlike the Draught of Living Death. Keeping her in a state not unlike a coma, but without causing muscle wastage or anything. The potion must have been expensive to create if it's like that."

"…Can she be woken? Should she?"

Bill chewed at his lip. "…We don't know how much Nero's personal history was distorted by people like Suetonius. Apparently Nero was very popular with the common citizens, though the upper classes were another matter, and of course there were the Christians. And, well, for all we know, she's not actually Nero, just one of his family put to rest here. But Nero was not known to have any real magical powers. I am detecting magic circuits, albeit only a few, so she does have some magical ability…and her body is surprisingly well-conditioned. You'd call it superhuman in other contexts. But there's no records of her ever using superhuman abilities, save perhaps while competing in the arena or at the Olympics. Still…I think we should wake her. She's no revenant or Inferius, and I think that we were lucky that we have translation charms capable of speaking in Ancient Greek or Roman Latin."

"Not that it hasn't stopped Hermione from trying to cram that shit into my head," Harry grumbled mutinously.

"Just get ready to Stun her if she does prove belligerent," Bill said, before beginning the spell, stopping only to place a translation charm on them both. The glass bier seemed to fade away partway through, and then, the woman's chest began to move up and down, her breathing soft. Then, her eyes opened.

They were green, like his own. No, not quite. Compared to his deep emerald, they were paler green. They were still as beautiful as the rest of her.

She sat up, gingerly, and then looked at the pair of them. Eventually, she said, in what turned out to be Ancient Greek, "… _What strange garments Mors and his attendant have…or are you mortal men?_ "

" _We are wizards, ma'am_ ," Bill said. " _You've been sleeping for a long time. A_ _ **very**_ _long time._ "

" _Umu…I feel like it_ ," the woman said. She swung her legs down off the bier, and stood, swaying a little, but managing to keep her balance. She then winced and clutched her head. " _Well, this is certainly not Elysium, for I would be free of the migraines my dearest mother inflicted on me. It feels too comfortable to be Tartarus…and I daresay that Asphodel would be considerably more duller. Then again, it would either be Elysium or Tartarus that awaited me, not the grey wastes of Asphodel! For I would be too great to waste away with the faceless denizens of that land!_ " She then began coughing as her hamminess abused a throat not used for nearly two millennia.

Harry, despite fearing that this woman could be one of Rome's most infamous rulers, went over to her, holding her as she coughed. What he saw was a young woman in distress. " _Are you all right?_ "

" _Yes, it just seems my voice, like all great instruments due to time and tide, has…rusted a little_ ," the woman said. She looked at him, and smiled, her smile radiant, like the sun, even in the dark chamber, lit only by Lumos spells. " _My thanks to you, wizard. To you both. I had feared that my internment would progress to my crossing the River Styx._ "

" _You're welcome_ ," Bill said. " _But…what is your name? I mean, there's a name on this bier, but we were…confused, as you are considered by most sources to have been a man._ "

" _A man? Umu, what a strange form of_ damnatio memoriae," the woman remarked, looking bemused. " _Then again, perhaps they couldn't stand the thought of a woman leading them. I do know many of my statues were smashed, and statues of a cousin of mine were shown off instead. Well, I should introduce myself then._ " And then, she gestured, as if she was an actor on the stage, or milking a giant cow. " _Only one ruler blossoms with the stars of her scintillating sword. She is the Emperor of Roses, whose hands are as elegant and beautiful as they are talented! With the melody of the Muses themselves, her sword does sing! With the strength and heat of Vulcan's forge does her very heart roar! She has the strength of Hercules, the mind of Minerva, and the beauty of Venus! Feel privileged, then, to stand in the presence of Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus!_ "

Harry stared, before he looked at Bill. "Is it me, or does she make Lockhart look humble?" he asked in English. That provoked a laugh from Bill. Still, Harry had just helped revive one of the more controversial Roman emperors…only, she was a woman.

It looked like the infamously variable Potter Luck had struck again…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Yes, it has.**

 **1\. This is a reference to Robert Graves'** ** _I, Claudius_** **, which purports to be based on an autobiography of Claudius' life and times, written on scrolls in Greek and preserved to be uncovered in nearly two millennia, according to a Sibyll's prophecy. That being said, Claudius and Nero had a better relationship than what was portrayed in the sequel** ** _Claudius the God_** **. Here, Claudius, while highly suspicious of Agrippina, nonetheless had a fairly good relationship with Nero, though he didn't allow her, as stated in Nasuverse source material, into high offices.**


	28. Of Empresses, Saints, Heroes and Chap 2

**I'm gratified at the response this story has gotten so far, as well as that for _Beautiful Destruction_. Whether either of these stories will see the light of day as a full story is another matter, sadly, and for now, I'm a bit tuckered out with new stories. I'll try to work more on these, and hopefully, they'll get published as full stories.**

 **It's worth pointing out something. Most of the time, I generally don't leave verbal tics or sayings or honorifics untranslated. However, I have to say, I just adore Nero's "Umu!" so much, I couldn't resist leaving it in.**

* * *

 _ **OF EMPRESSES, SAINTS, HEROES AND WIZARDS**_

 **CHAPTER 2:**

 **OF EMPERORS AND GRAILS**

Any worries that Nero would be dangerous proved to be unfounded, even though she took with her from her 'tomb' a strange, jagged sword, a crimson thing that looked like a crystallised flame. While she was understandably shocked to see what Rome had become, including landmarks like the Colosseum (which admittedly not been built during her reign, though it had been built over the site of her Domus Aurea, the great Golden House of her own design), she seemed to eventually take it in her stride. There were some moments of culture shock, and her dress certainly drew the wrong sort of attention (and any protests to her that she was showing off her underwear with that transparent front of her skirt were met with explanations that she was letting people see her beauty), but still…Harry was surprised at, for example, how casually she seemed to take cars in her stride, calling them 'miracles created in Vulcan's forge'.

She was then brought back to their hotel. Fleur was distinctly unamused that her husband brought back a rather beautiful young woman in tow, and the ensuing conversation was… _interesting_ , in the cursed sense of the term. It took some time for the part-Veela to accept that the young woman Bill and Harry brought back was Nero, and understandably so. Once that was over and done with, though, and Fleur accepted this was Nero, the two women surprisingly hit it off. Nero had had a Veela mistress for a time, in fact.

Early the next morning, after a rather large breakfast (especially for the former empress), Fleur took Nero shopping, though Bill warned Fleur to keep an eye on the budget. One thing that was truly common about all the accounts was that Nero had been a profligate spender and had extravagant tastes. Meanwhile, Bill and Harry went to find a café that served halfway decent tea, and found one.

As they sipped their cups, Bill sighed. "Well, that's complicated things. Then again, perhaps it's just as well we found her first."

"First?"

Bill nodded. "In truth, we were searching for Nero's tomb just in case there were artifacts to be plundered from it, so we could protect them. The Italians are, admittedly, pretty big on that, but still, there are some people who don't care. In the past year or so, there've been a distinct upswing in numbers of tomb raiding incidents and archaeological thefts across the world. I'm not just talking about thefts from warzones like in the Middle East. Most of them have been covered up, but many of them have one thing in common: Yggdmillennia."

Harry frowned. The name rang a bell for some reason. "Yggdmillennia?"

"They're a large clan of Magi based in Trifas, Romania," Bill said. "They take in a lot of Magi from families that are going extinct. All headed by Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia."

"And who's that when he's at home?"

"A rather nasty Magus, who's rumoured to be even more ruthless than Voldemort was in pursuit of immortality, though unlike Voldemort, he kept under the radar for the most part," Bill said. "He has to be pushing a hundred years old, but the latest photos show him to be in his twenties. Back in the Thirties, he was one of the few survivors of the last Holy Grail War of Fuyuki."

Harry remembered discussing that very thing with Lord El-Melloi II, whose real name was Waver Velvet. He had been a participant, and a survivor, in an auxiliary Grail War about ten years ago, shortly before he participated in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, though a Grail War made that pale by comparison. Seven Magi would summon the spirits of long-dead heroes, Heroic Spirits, as familiars. These familiars would be named Servants, and the Magi holding their leashes were Masters. They would then fight to the death over the Holy Grail, a powerful magical artifact capable of granting any wish, provided it was primed by the energy of six fallen Servants.

However, the Greater Grail, the main part of the Holy Grail, had disappeared, apparently stolen by the Nazis. Considering that the Japanese were part of the Axis powers, it seemed odd, even before the Second World War, for the Nazis to do such a thing, but presumably Hitler and his occult researchers in the Thule Society thought the Greater Grail could give them a badly-needed edge in the war to come.

"Okay, so…what's the problem? I'm guessing it's more serious than historical artifacts being…stolen…" And then, Harry remembered something that Waver told him. When summoning Servants, the Magi often used a historical artifact as a catalyst to ensure certain Servants were summoned. Waver had stolen from his rather nasty teacher a scrap of mantle that once belonged to Alexander the Great, and had used that to summon said man, as a Rider Servant. "…They're preparing for a Holy Grail War," Harry whispered in horrified realisation.

"Indeed. There are rumours persisting that Yggdmillennia are preparing to secede from Clock Tower. To even consider succeeding, they need an artifact of considerable power. And as Darnic is one of the few survivors of the Third Holy Grail War in Fuyuki, and had rumoured links to the Nazis…it's possible that he is in possession of the Greater Grail. The Greater Grail certainly disappeared from the possession of the Thule Society shortly before Germany annexed Austria. To have these thefts of historical artifacts linked to Yggdmillennia, particularly those linked to famous legends and historical figures, points to Yggdmillennia preparing for a Grail War of their own."

"…That's not good. And they'd be stacking the deck in their favour, wouldn't they?"

"Hmm. The Ministry is, of course, downplaying this, and so are many of the more hidebound people in Clock Tower. But, well, Zelretch is worried. And when you have a centuries-old vampire who defeated Crimson Moon Brunestud himself being worried, you know that is the time to worry too," Bill said.

Harry nodded in agreement. Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, the feared Wizard Marshall of Clock Tower, a vampire (or Dead Apostle), a powerful Magus, and an unrepentant prankster who loved breaking those who caught his interest in the wrong way. If he was worried about something, then it was best to be worried as well. "Well, here's hoping Clock Tower can get it sorted. Say what you will about Magi, when they find a problem to be solved, they don't stick their heads in the sand, at least not as much as the Ministry back home did."

"True, but most of Romania is under the aegis of Yggdmillennia. They're practically the Second Owners of the country," Bill pointed out. "Plus, we've found that Darnic has expressed interest in artifacts relating to Vlad Tepes for some time. If the likes of Vlad the Impaler were ever summoned as a Servant, on his native Romanian soil where he's revered as a national hero…well, he alone would be enough to massacre an entire squad of Enforcers. Most of our Aurors, even with Fudge and Umbridge gone, would last a shorter period of time, unless they were good at combat Apparition, and even then, they could only evade the attacks or escape, not do any real damage to a Servant."

"…Shit," Harry muttered succinctly. "How powerful are we talking?"

"Servants are superhuman. Even Voldemort or Dumbledore in their primes would struggle to defeat one, and even then, those would be one of the weaker classes," Bill said. "Let's put it this way: if we had a few Servants back during Voldemort's coup d'etat, he would have been defeated sooner. If Voldemort had a few…well, we wouldn't be talking here and now. From what Waver told me, they're literally one-man armies. Hell, his Servant actually had an ability to summon his army as one of his trump cards."

"Yeah, Waver told me. Iskandar, Alexander the Great, had the ability to manifest a Reality Marble as a trump card, a Noble Phantasm. In it, he had his armies from life," Harry said. "But still…it's one thing to hear from someone, but…have you witnessed a Grail War, Bill?"

"I ended up in one of the auxiliary ones in France. Not as a Master, wizards are rarely chosen if at all, but I saw two of them clashing while trying to help Gringotts with some issues there. One of them was Charles-Henri Sanson, summoned as an Assassin, and the other was Cú Chulainn, summoned as a Caster. Those were two of the weakest classes, and yet, the earth shook as they fought." Bill shook his head. "Anyway, we'd better hope we don't get dragged into it."

"Amen to that," Harry muttered. While he would go out of his way to help someone in need if he saw them, his days of going out and being a more proactive hero were over. Most of the time, he recited his stories to Teddy, or to Gabby or Laeticia. According to Fleur, Laeticia's family was actually descended from relatives of Jeanne d'Arc, the famous French saint and warrior who beat back the English during the Hundred Years War. Harry felt sorry for Jeanne. He remembered how he martyred himself for the cause…only he came back. Jeanne didn't, being burned to ashes, all but betrayed by her own side to appease the British.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Nero cheering at them in Ancient Greek. They discreetly cast translation charms, as the vivacious ex-empress came along with an exhausted-looking Fleur in tow, looking chuffed as she carried shopping bags. She had been dressed in one of Fleur's dresses, though it had to be adjusted to suit Nero's shorter frame. " _Umu! What a veritable bounty this era has in fashion! I do miss the apparel of my time, but these things make up for this! I wanted to buy them all, but I have been told that I have to stick to that most onerous of tyrannies: a budget._ "

Her pout was surprisingly cute. Harry snarked, " _Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black, complaining about tyrannies?_ "

" _Tis the prerogative of any ruler to overthrow tyrannies in their path!_ " Nero declared. " _However, I decided to stick to said budget, if only because my purchases are reliant on the finances of my hosts, and abusing their hospitality would be somewhat discourteous, especially as you roused me from my eternal slumber._ "

 _How very kind_ , Harry thought sarcastically. As Nero sat next to him, and Fleur sat down next to Bill, he remarked, " _Did you get more than clothes?_ "

" _Of course! I had Fleur purchase a number of books on history. I appreciate that you gave me a broad synopsis of events since my slumber began, and despite my credulity that your island nation became an empire rivalling Rome itself, I also find it…perversely apt. But my old advisor, Seneca…he told me to never stop learning, that the mind was as deadly a weapon as the sharpest blade. It may be centuries too late, but I daresay following his advice would be prudent now._ " A miserable look came over Nero's countenance at that. " _I had forgiven him over the conspiracy he had been involved in, allegedly or not, but he did not believe me, and thus, he killed himself. In truth, the fact that he did not believe me was the most grievous blow he could have dealt me._ "

"I hope you didn't buy her Suetonius," Bill remarked in English to Fleur.

"I managed to persuade her not to," Fleur said. "They didn't have many books in English or French. And virtually none in Greek. I found a couple with some Latin, but we'll have to find a library for those. She also wanted to buy a Game Boy Advance when we passed by an electronics store, to say nothing of a TV and a DVD player. I've persuaded her to wait."

Harry frowned. While that reminded him a little of Dudley's spoilt insistence on getting the latest stuff, he realised that, to Nero, a lot of this stuff was novel. In fiction, many of those from the past go mad upon seeing their future, our present…but Nero didn't go insane, unless it was with a shopaholic illness. Then, he remembered that Bill and Fleur had sent off a message to Gringotts about Nero last night. "Any word back from the Goblins?"

"About Nero? Not yet. It's extremely rare that someone is found in magical stasis after centuries," Bill said. "That being said, it's happened enough times that Gringotts has all sorts of procedures in place. There was apparently a fiasco back in the 1800s when Queen Nitocris turned up alive and well in a tomb in Egypt. There've been a few other cases since then, but they generally boil down to, if they're willing to integrate back into society, then they can be helped. I'm sure the Goblins will make her your problem due to your monetary reserves."

"Like they hadn't taken enough for that break-in," Harry grumbled. "We told them about the Horcrux, and yet they still fined me. I wasn't expecting a medal, but a 'thank you for ridding your vaults of a bit of Voldemort's soul' would have been nice. Not to mention Griphook backstabbing me over the Sword of Gryffindor. So, I've got to babysit her?"

"At least until she can find her own way. Still, look at it this way, Harry. As…boastful and boisterous as she is, she'd have seen many historical events firsthand, or heard news of them. She can tell us of life during her time as Emperor. Tyrant or not, she's also quite valuable to the right people. Clock Tower wouldn't slap a Sealing Designation on her, but there might be Magi who might come after her…to say nothing of historians either wanting her view on events…or wanting to stop her from refuting them. And if her identity became publicly known…well, there are Magi and even wizards who follow the Christian faith, and they may not react well to one of their most infamous persecutors being alive and well."

"Yes…she was asking questions about the Vatican, and she found it astonishing that the circus that her uncle started and she completed there was replaced with the centre of the Catholic Church," Fleur said. "Oh, and we picked up some medication. Apparently a common complaint she has are migraines."

"Migraines?"

Fleur spoke briefly to Nero, who nodded. " _My mother…she poisoned me with a residual poison, and gave me the antidote as long as she lived, as a means to control me. After I had her killed…I had worse and worse migraines. Umu, I have heard from Fleur that modern medicine does wonders against such maladies._ "

" _Huh…I heard Agrippina was a bitch, but I didn't know she was that much of one_ ," Harry muttered, not quite realising he was doing so in Greek. Not until he glanced at Nero, and noted the conflicted look on her face. To Bill and Fleur, he said, "Did I just make like Ron and put my foot in my mouth?" They both nodded, and he facepalmed. He then turned to Nero. " _Look, I'm sorry if I hurt you when I badmouthed your mother. But if she really did poison you_ …"

" _Umu, it's okay_ ," Nero said, waving off the apology. " _You were angry on my behalf, and I find that heartening. I know I don't have the best reputation these days, but while I may not be treated as the emperor, to be treated as someone other than a villain is lovely._ "

Harry was actually struck by something then and there. There was a flash of something in her eyes, something familiar, something he saw in the mirror at times. He now knew that Nero was afflicted with something more insidious than headaches or poison. Loneliness. A desire to be loved. Something he shared himself.

How many true friends had Nero had in life? Harry was lucky that he managed to have some, despite his fame, and his isolation at the Dursleys. But a Roman Emperor was on another level entirely to the Boy Who Lived. Did she have any?

What he saw was, admittedly, different to the image of Nero he had in his head. Admittedly, some of that was due to pop culture (and the surviving statues attributed to Nero) portraying him as a rotund man, not a beautiful young woman. But the impression he got was not of someone truly evil or malicious, despite what was attributed to her, but rather, more self-centred and egotistical and opinionated. But he also saw something else, the desire for love, the loneliness, beneath all that.

Perhaps babysitting Nero wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe it would be interesting. He just hoped it wasn't in the cursed sense of the word…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **More 'umu!', and more of the background. Next chapter, some stuff from Nero's point of view, and the beginning of the** ** _Fate/Apocrypha_** **storyline…**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	29. Last of the Titans Chapter 1

**So, a lot of people were looking forward to _Beautiful Destruction_. Unfortunately, it wasn't really going anywhere in terms of plot, beyond Harry and Altera kicking arse. And I was dissatisfied with that. I wanted something a little more character driven with a bit more plot rather than just a curbstomp power trip. So I went back to the drawing board, and after going over the original idea, I decided to try something new. It is stated in _Fate/Extella_ that Sephyr/Altera wasn't the only one of her kind. So, I thought, just as Altera's fragment was found and became Attila the Hun, why not a fragment of another Titan of Velber was found...and became a certain boy wizard?**

 **I'm hoping that this has more potential as a story. Hopefully, you guys like it too. I was a bit leery of doing yet another Book 4 story, but it's been a while since I've started one of those, and Book 4 is one of the better ones for crossovers, as it is probably the book that marks a turning point for Harry, as well as giving potential for crossovers to happen.**

 **Anyway, enjoy...**

* * *

 _ **LAST OF THE TITANS**_

 **CHAPTER 1:**

 **DREAMS OF THE TITANS**

There is a legend known to those who study the arcane lore of prehistory. The legend of the Umbral Star, Velber, and its heralds. The White Titan, and the Gold Titan. It's a legend surprisingly supported by science, if only because there was evidence for the mass extinctions that occurred about 14 millennia ago, albeit one of many such mass extinctions happening during the end of the Pleistocene Era. This extinction was chalked down by the scientific community (albeit not without reason: they were right about the reasons for other extinctions in the geological ballpark) to climate change caused by the end of the Ice Age, as well as other factors.

In truth, like more than a few harbingers of extinction, the cause came from space. But not in the form of a meteorite that struck with apocalyptic force. Rather, something landed, and then began spreading death and destruction in its wake.

When people speak of the fall of Atlantis, they usually think it was due to the hubris of its natives. However, Atlantis was but one of the ancient civilisations that was decimated by the White Titan. Mu, Hyperborea, Lemuria, all fell to the White Titan's rampage…though in truth, the White Titan was an entity bound to do its job. In truth, even as its body destroyed, its mind was asking of itself, _Why? Why? Why?_

Of course, this meant little to its victims. All they saw was a monster whose very presence corrupted man and beast alike into monsters. And then, a second such monster appeared, its skin shining gold like the Sun, just as the White Titan's shone a pale bluish-white, like the Moon. With a grand weapon, struck down the pair of them. Parts of their bodies, struck by the blast of the weapon fired at them, flew into the distance. One landed elsewhere in the land that would one day become the island of Britain, where it would be found eventually by the Unspeakables. The other eventually landed in a part of Western Europe that, one day, would be taken over by the Huns. About twelve and a half thousand years later, said Huns would stumble across it…and find a baby girl, whom their elders would name Attila. A name she would come to detest, but that's getting ahead of ourselves.

The gathered people who had managed to fell the two Titans knew that killing them might not be possible in the limited time they had, so, using arcane magic that was soon forgotten to the world, they imprisoned them, deep within an island. To maintain this other dimension, a power source of sorts was created, but in order to try and prevent any attempt at a breakout, the power source was taken as far away from Britain as the bearers could.

They arrived in what is now called Egypt, where a culture was arising. There, a small group were recruited, to guard a tomb of sorts, a tomb that would later be the inspiration for the tombs of the pharaohs many thousands of years later. From generation to generation, these tomb-keepers kept the power source, which had been tastelessly dubbed the Heart of the Titans, secret and safe. And so it would be for thousands of years, until the Black Death swept the country in the 1300s, and took with it the tomb-keepers. The tomb itself remained secret and safe, even from archaeologists and tomb-raiders…

Until now.

* * *

The woman who strode across the barren desert sands cut a most striking figure. She was rather slender, and yet, her body held an unmistakeable sense of strength to it. Her skin was dark, not the black of a sub-Saharan African, but closer to the Middle East. Her face was beautiful, but oddly impassive, though if one cared to look, one might spot a certain mournful nature to her expression.

Oddly enough, despite her apparent youth, perhaps being in her late teens or twenties, she had shoulder length white hair, with crimson eyes peering at the desert. Her outfit was surprisingly skimpy too. A shawl or veil hung from her head, her only true concessions to modesty being a breast band covering her relatively small bust, and what could have been called a G-string by modern standards. In her hand was something that was like a sword, and yet not one. The blade looked like a crystallised rainbow.

She soon found what she was looking for, a hillock from which she could sense power. With a slash of her sword, the woman blasted sand off a crude stone structure, buried for centuries.

Without any hesitation, she made her way through the entrance. There were traps placed throughout, but she avoided or dodged them in a way that seemed almost like a graceful dance. Occasionally, she used her sword to destroy traps, the blade sometimes lashing out like a whip.

And then, she came to a chamber. Mounted on a plinth was a beautiful thing. A crystalline structure, resembling a Fabergé Egg, glowing softly with blue light. The height of Atlantean thaumatology, created with the last of their resources, everything else having been shattered with the island nation. It drew upon the local leylines, and transmitted the power elsewhere. It would be a genuine shame to destroy it.

But, as the cliché went, you couldn't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.

The expression the woman made as she held her sword upwards, the blade suddenly flaring into a pillar of crimson light, was surprisingly rueful. She then slashed at the Heart of the Titans. A brief ripple of space passed through the jewel-like construct, and then, space itself seemed to open up, revealing alien stars, glittering like gems in the darkness. The Heart of the Titans seemed to hold briefly, before it shattered. The only noise it emitted as it finally died was a faint, mournful warble.

She let her body fade and ripple into nothingness, knowing that now, her search could truly begin. _Ypyrion_ , she thought, even as she faded. _I am coming for you…and then, we can begin anew where we were interrupted_ …

* * *

Ever since the Dementor attack at the end of his third year, Harry had been plagued by dreams. Strange surreal dreams. Of alien landscapes, and alien people. Of a White Titan, a thing of beautiful destruction…and the love of his life, so he seemed to think of these dreams. Of the obscene plan his conquerors concocted, of Velber, the Umbral Star, of he and the White Titan being forced to do their bidding…

And at times, he saw, striding towards him across a grassy plain, a woman with white hair, crimson eyes, skimpy dress, and a sword with a blade like a crystallised rainbow. She seemed to flicker and alternate with the image of the White Titan. And in a language that no human had spoken, and yet, he understood it, she said, _We will meet soon, Ypyrion_ …

To tell the truth, they felt better than the ones he had of Voldemort lately. But they still left him ill at ease, especially as they didn't quite feel like dreams. Well, neither did the ones with Voldemort, but these other ones felt more comforting, perversely enough.

He couldn't remember what happened with the Dementors, and what he saw later, during his trip with Hermione back in time, only added to his confusion. He saw himself suddenly surrounded by a golden glow that seemed to transform him into…well, an adult. A young adult, true, but an adult all the same, clad in red robes that seemed to burn like fire, his hair a wild, untamed mane of darkness. He had then pointed the hilt of a sword up at the sky, called out something in a language he didn't understand, and a beam of energy fired out of the sword's hilt, hitting a series of sigils and causing a rain of light to annihilate the Dementors.

Unfortunately, since then, he'd had a malady that caused him to black out at inopportune times. It happened a few times over summer. It was during those times that he had a few of those dreams. Hell, Petunia even brought him to a doctor, probably in one of the nicest things that horse-faced bitch ever did for him.

It also happened during Moody's class, when he demonstrated the Unforgivables. When Moody used the Imperius, the next thing Harry knew, he was waking up in the Hospital Wing, having apparently attacked Moody in a rage. Moody had waived any detentions, claiming that it was impressive how he threw off the Imperius, but already gossip was starting that Harry was unstable. It was like that fiasco of the Chamber of Secrets all over again.

Not that he could blame them. In a way, when he looked at all the things he did, he got an urge to destroy it. It wasn't strong, but it was persistent. That had certainly been happening since the Dementor attack.

Of course, the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had arrived last night. Harry hadn't really paid much attention to those who arrived, save for that rather haughty French part-Veela, and Ron gushing over Viktor Krum. But apparently the older students were going to be putting in their entries into the Tournament. Harry was tempted, true, but quite frankly, every year, he'd had to deal with something bad happening. He hoped that what happened at the Quidditch World Cup was all that would happen, though something told him otherwise.

It was shortly after witnessing the Weasley Twin's abortive attempt backfire, and the discussion afterwards, that Harry suddenly saw _her_. She was dressed in the heavy robes of Durmstrang, but it was undeniably her. The same tanned skin, standing out amongst the more pale skin tones of the other Durmstrang students. The same shoulder length white hair. The same crimson eyes. The same eyes that now met his across the Great Hall. She was near the Goblet of Fire, placing a parchment into the blue flames after Viktor Krum, before she strode over. "You…" she said. Then, she said, "May I speak with you?" Her voice was surprisingly soft and gentle, and yet had a stern nature to it, her accent indefinable.

Harry nodded. "Go ahead."

"…Alone."

Harry wasn't sure what to say to this, but Hermione said, "Well, I need to go and get my stuff relating to SPEW. Ron, can you help me?"

"What? But why?"

Hermione managed to drag Ron away, leaving Harry alone with the girl, who gestured for him to come with her, heading to one of the corridors leading there, and then standing in the corner, a hand on her hip. He was a little wary, given Durmstrang's reputation, but he also had the sense that, while the girl was dangerous, she was no danger to him personally. "…So it really is you," she said softly. "I thought I sensed you somewhere in this castle."

Harry frowned, trying to discern what she meant by this. "…Who are you? Why do I keep seeing dreams with…an older you?"

"…As I feared, you do not remember. Perhaps that is for the best. If you want a name, you may call me Altera Etzelson(1)." She shook her head, much of her sternness going away, and she gave a rather soft, even shy smile. "Sorry, this must be utterly confusing for you. I shouldn't have approached you so boldly, Harry Potter, and rudely asked for your attention alone. Forgive me for my rudeness. You must have to deal with so many approaching you because of your fame, even though it was your mother who doubtlessly saved you from Voldemort. However, you should be wary. The man who is my headmaster is a former Death Eater, a follower of Voldemort who turned on his comrades to save his own hide. While it is doubtful that he would harm you, given his base cowardice, watch your back around him. Xenophobia is Bad Civilisation."

"…What?"

"Sorry, it's a habit of mine. Civilisation…it is a mass of contradictions, filled with good and bad things. And the follies of civilisation are magnified within the magicals. At least this place feels more like a home than Durmstrang. More welcoming. Less cold. And yet…the older an institution is, the more it calcifies, hardens, restricts." She shook her head. "Never mind. Perhaps we may speak later, Harry Potter."

"Wait a minute," he said, as she made to walk away. "…Why do I see you in my dreams?"

"…You wouldn't believe me even if I told you. Know, then, that we are linked." She looked over her shoulder, and gave him a gentle smile. "Treasure your ignorance, Harry. This is one of the few times when it can truly be considered bliss…"

* * *

Her words, odd and enigmatic, echoed in his mind throughout the afternoon and evening. Hermione and Ron were curious, but Harry waved it off as Altera being curious about his fame. He wasn't sure they'd understand what was going on. Especially with Hermione so fixated on SPEW.

And then, the choosing of the Champions came around. That part-Veela was chosen for Beauxbatons, and was named as Fleur Delacour. Altera Etzelson was chosen for Durmstrang, and their eyes met across the Great Hall briefly. Ron seemed sour that Viktor Krum wasn't chosen. So too did Karkaroff, the headmaster of Durmstrang, though he still applauded loudly. Then, Cedric Diggory was chosen as the Champion of Hogwarts. But even as it seemed all over, the Goblet flared into life once more, and disgorged Harry's name.

What followed was shocking enough. Recriminations and accusations, mostly directed at each other, were made, though Harry felt their sting too many times. But as Cedric left with Harry numbly, he heard Altera's voice from behind. "A moment, please."

Cedric and Harry looked back at the approaching Altera. "What do you want?" Cedric asked.

"I wish to speak to Harry alone."

Cedric seemed about to object, before Harry said, "It's okay. I'll find my own way back."

Cedric, after a moment, nodded, and left. Harry sighed. "Are you going to accuse me of entering?"

"Of course not. I could see the dazed expression on your face. You weren't expecting it. And you looked scared. I don't know who did this, or why, but you don't have the air of one who cheated into the system and got caught. Then again, the Age Line would have been no barrier to you had you tried anyway," Altera said. "No…you are going to need everything at your disposal to survive when you go through this. That is why I intend to teach you."

"…Teach me?" Harry asked blankly. "…But why? As a Champion, I am your opponent!"

Altera gave a small smile. "You will understand, in time. I believe Moody was right. I believe someone put your name in as a form of assassination by proxy. And even if they don't succeed in killing your body, they can damage your reputation by making you out to be a cheat. Tomorrow, I will wait for you in the atrium to the Great Hall after breakfast. However, I can tell you one reason why. Because we are the same, Harry Potter. We are more alike than you know." And with that, she moved off, leaving Harry with more questions than answers…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, Altera's a Durmstrang student, Harry's having dreams of her, and has powers of his own, suspiciously similar to hers. What the hell is going on here?**

 **1\. 'Etzel' was the name given to Attila the Hun in the** ** _Nibelungenlied_** **, which also features the inspiration for Nasuverse Servants Siegfried and Brynhild.**


End file.
